


somewhere the sky is going soft

by iphigenias



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Coming Out, F/F, Friendship, Mutual Pining, Quidditch, Sharing Clothes, Slow Build, anti-Noorhelm, anti-William
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: Sixth year at Hogwarts and Eva’s got a lot on her mind: Quidditch, ex-boyfriends, and the daunting prospect of confronting her bisexuality. Not to mention an ever-increasing course load, helping a friend out of an abusive relationship, and the not-so-little crush she may or may not be nursing for a girl who happens to be her best friend. It's a good thing Hufflepuffs value hard work.





	somewhere the sky is going soft

**Author's Note:**

> i sat down to write a fluffy evana fic a week ago and it turned into this. i just wanna give a big s/o to faiza @evenandsana on tumblr for introducing me to the ship and making my life about 100% better. also massive thanks to marnie for being my sounding board, beta, and cheer squad. this fic wouldn't be what it is without you.
> 
> trigger warnings for this fic include: abusive relationships (noorhelm), mentions of eating disorders (vilde), at times critically low self-esteem (eva), underage drinking (no surprise there) and a sports-related injury (no spoilers who though). if there's anything i missed, please lmk!
> 
> happy last week of skam ever!! i hope this fic lessens the pain somewhat ❤️

Eva is late for class on her first day back and honestly? She’s not even surprised. She and the girls had all snuck into the Astronomy Tower last night after the welcome feast, and after going all summer without a drop of Firewhiskey, it’s safe to say her tolerance was at an all time low. She has the alcohol to thank for her pounding headache right now, but the only person at blame for her tardiness is herself. She should’ve known better than to trust herself to wake up on time. Stupid hangovers and their stupid consequences.

She skids into the Transfiguration classroom four minutes after the bell. McGonagall gives her a shrewd stare but says nothing, which is a blessing in itself and one which probably wouldn’t have happened if Eva’s class partner wasn’t Sana, one of the best in their year at Transfiguration. The girl in question arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Eva as she drops unflatteringly into her seat.

“Missed your alarm?” she asks in a low voice, and Eva shrugs, embarrassed.

“Forgot to set one, actually.” Sana rolls her eyes but there’s a fond smile on her face that lets Eva know she isn’t actually annoyed, only pretending to be. Eva lets her gaze linger on that smile, the soft dimples it creates, but blushes and looks away quickly when Sana catches her staring.

It’s not only alcohol that Eva’s developed a low tolerance for since the summer.

McGonagall starts the lesson off with a summary of their curriculum for the year. Sixth year always sounded like a slump between OWLs and NEWTs, but as McGonagall outlines the frankly terrifying amount of content they’ll be covering in this term alone, Eva feels her headache start to spike. What she wouldn’t give for a Hangover Cure right about now.

After McGonagall’s spiel, they spend the rest of the lesson revising content from fifth year to ensure that a) no-one’s forgotten anything, and b) everyone’s magic is up to scratch for what McGonagall deems appropriate NEWT-level requirements. Eva’s stomach flip-flops at that, because Transfiguration has never been her strong suit, and she only managed to scrape an E in her OWLs through dozens of late night study sessions with Sana and sheer, dumb luck. But thankfully her knowledge of OWL-level spells hasn’t deserted her during the summer, and she manages to successfully complete both the Doubling and Vanishing spells McGonagall assigns, thankfully with no rodent casualties. It probably helps that Sana keeps up a whispered running monologue throughout, advising Eva on her wand movement, wrist position, and pronunciation. From anyone else it would sound condescending (and Eva has received many a condescending lecture in her time at Hogwarts), but from Sana it simply feels like well-meaning advice from a kind and thoughtful friend.

 _Which is all that she is_ , Eva thinks to herself sternly. _A friend._

“You have Potions now, yeah?” Eva asks as the first bell rings and the class begins packing up their bags. The girls had compared schedules on the train yesterday and Eva had them all memorised.

“Yeah,” Sana says, hitching her bag over her shoulder. “I can’t believe Slughorn is still teaching. Surely he should be retired by now.”

Eva makes a commiserating noise. “I don’t think he’ll ever retire, not when there’s still bright young minds to be indoctrinated into his Slug Cult… I mean Club.” Sana laughs and it makes Eva’s insides go all soft and glowy.

“Not that I would ever go,” Sana says as they make their way out the classroom and down the corridor, “But it would be nice to be invited for once. I _am_ coming first in Potions.”

“I think you mean second,” Isak butts in, falling into step beside Eva. “Hey, Eva. Good break?”

“Yeah, you know,” Eva says. “The usual.” Talking with Isak is still kind of awkward, even though the fiasco between him and Eva and Jonas happened back in fourth year. “You?”

Isak doesn’t answer, because Sana beats him to it. “ _Second?_ ” she asks, eyebrows reaching for the hem of her hijab. “You’re kidding yourself.” Isak shrugs.

“Not just a river in Egypt,” he sing-songs, and Sana scowls. Eva peels off from the two of them to head towards the North Tower.

“See you at lunch,” she says, and Sana waves back at her, all traces of her scowl gone. The memory of her smile gives Eva the bounce in her step all the way to Divination. Vilde’s waiting for her there; pats the lurid pink pouffe next to her own lilac one and grins once Eva sits down.

“I swear this room gets more and more cluttered every year,” she says under her breath as Trelawney sweeps into the room, shawls trailing. Eva laughs quietly and settles back into her seat. Divination is the one class where Eva doesn’t feel stupid, or two steps behind everyone else; she knows Sana thinks it’s bullshit, and Noora rolls her eyes every time it’s brought up while Chris just laughs, and God forbid what Jonas would say if she told him she was still taking the subject—but Eva is _good_ at it, earned her only O for it, and sometimes it’s nice to study a topic where everything isn’t always black and white, right or wrong. She could do without the semi-regular predictions of death Trelawney seems to delight in doling out, but hey, nothing’s perfect.

“How was Transfiguration?” Vilde asks after they’ve settled in with the task of predicting this week’s weather in their crystal balls. Eva shrugs. She knows Vilde would’ve liked to continue it, but even though McGonagall couldn’t ban her from taking it with just an A, she’d strongly advised against it. Eva supposes it might seem cruel, except for the fact that McGonagall then sat down with Vilde for more than an hour, parsing out her subject choices and deciding on the NEWT subjects that would give Vilde the best chance of success after Hogwarts. McGonagall is a stern woman, but she cares for her students, particularly those in her house. It sometimes makes Eva wistful, for although Sprout means well, she’s always more preoccupied with plants than people. Although, it could be worse. She could have Slughorn. Eva sends down a mental prayer to Sana, currently in the dungeons brewing something horrifyingly difficult whilst at the same time listening to Isak wax poetic about Even and having to endure Slughorn’s blunt, if ignorant, xenophobia.

“You’re so lucky you got to sleep in this morning,” Eva tells Vilde. “What I wouldn’t have killed for to sleep off this hangover in a free.”

Vilde sighs commiseratingly. “If it’s any consolation, I still feel like I’ve been run over by the Hogwarts Express.” Eva winces.

“Remind me, why do we drink again?”

“Honestly?” Vilde asks, arching an eyebrow as she turns her attention to the crystal ball in front of them, “I have no idea.”

 

*

 

Eva has a free after lunch, so she swings by her dorm after Divination to drop off her bag before heading to the Great Hall. She spots Sana and Isak at the Slytherin table when she walks in, bickering over something that involves a lot of gesturing (Isak) and raised eyebrows (Sana). Eva gives them a little wave which she’s pretty sure they don’t see before swinging into her seat at the Hufflepuff table, grabbing a mandarin and a couple cucumber sandwiches for her plate before pouring herself a glass of pineapple juice. Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus are sitting together a little ways down the table, and Eva gives Jonas a quick smile when he looks her way. Really, she’s been over him for a while now, but something about his smile always brings back memories, both the good and the bad.

“Still on that garbage juice, then?” Eva jumps, startled out of her reverie. Mikael sits down beside her, Yousef beside him, both grinning at her. She hasn't had much to do with them over the years, but being friends of Sana’s big brother and in the same house, they've kept up friendly conversation. Which often occurs at the dining tables, and almost always on the topic of Eva’s Muggleborn quirks.

“It's not _garbage_ ,” she says, trying not to sound like she cares but probably failing. “It's _pineapple_.”

Yousef shakes his head in wonder. “Muggles are weird.”

“Wizards are weird,” Eva retorts. “You drink pumpkin goop, I don't think you can talk.” This is a conversation they've had many times before, so Yousef just shrugs it off like he always does, and Mikael gives her his trademark carefree grin. “You are so full of it,” she informs both of them, grabbing her plate and her juice and stepping free of the bench seat. “Enjoy your garbage juice.”

By the time she's reached the Slytherin table, Sana has moved to make room for her and Isak is nowhere to be seen, probably in some alcove somewhere macking on his boyfriend. It would be gross if they weren't so cute, and if Eva didn't know just how far Isak has come over the past two years. As it is, seeing them together always just makes her smile.

“I hope the boys weren't annoying you,” Sana says, inclining her head towards Mikael and Yousef, who appear to be fake sword-fighting with carrot sticks.

“Again, you mean?” Eva says, then laughs. “It's okay. They're nice… usually.”

Sana rolls her eyes as she butters a dinner roll. “They're idiots. But they mean well.” She and Eva grin at each other for a few moments before Eva becomes aware of how warm her cheeks are and looks away quickly. Her gaze finds McGonagall’s at the high table, who is looking at her with a disapproving arched brow. Eva winces. McGonagall’s lenience may extend to first day tardiness, but not to this.

“I better go,” she tells Sana, sculling the rest of her juice and shoving the sandwiches and an apple into the pocket of her robes. “If I stay here any longer McGonagall will be the one Vanishing _me._ ” Sana grins and waves her on her way. Eva walks the short way back to the Hufflepuff common room with a smile on her face that she couldn’t get rid of if she tried.

 

*

 

The first week back goes by quickly and all too soon Eva finds herself once again swamped by piles of homework, which only seem to grow bigger every time she finishes an assignment. “I think my brain is going to melt out of my ears,” she tells Noora during their study session in the library. “I’m not kidding. I think this book has some kind of curse on it.” She closes the volume with a dusty _thump_.

“I doubt that,” Noora says, rolling her eyes. “It’s _Defence Against_ the Dark Arts, not the Dark Arts. Not everything’s out to get you.”

Eva sighs dramatically, resting her head against the table. “I’m dying, Noora. It’s killed me.”

“Who’s killed you?” Sana arrives with Vilde and Chris in tow, smiling at the two of them as Eva scrambles into an upright position.

“This Defence essay,” Eva says. “Sana, help me, please, before it’s too late.”

Sana and Noora roll their eyes in sync. “Given up already?” Sana asks, glancing at the closed book in front of Eva, who sighs.

“I can’t deal with that right now. Vilde, wanna work on our dream diaries?”

“Sure!” Vilde drops into the seat next to Eva and Sana sits opposite, between Chris and Noora. Eva can smell her perfume from across the table; sandalwood and citrus and something sweet, like chocolate, only not quite. Eva flips open her dream diary to stop herself from staring.

“Okay… so last night I dreamed I was being chased by a Hippogriff around the Quidditch Pitch.” Vilde gives her a look, which Eva shrugs off. It’s not like she’s going to reveal her _actual_ dreams, especially not with a certain someone sitting right here. Vilde flicks through the dream guide, humming as she goes.

“Well… it says here a Hippogriff symbolises power and success, but I suppose an angry Hippogriff would be the opposite… so failure, maybe? And chasing is a metaphor for the passage of time… and I suppose a Quidditch Pitch could be a ‘wide, open space,’ which stands for isolation…”

“So I’m going to fail at something in the future and it will lead to me being alone?” Eva summarises, and Vilde nods. “Cool. Really looking forward to it.”

Noora makes an exasperated noise and Eva looks up at her. “You know that stuff’s a load of rubbish, right?” she says. Sana keeps jotting down notes but Chris sniggers quietly. “Only people with the Sight can actually predict the future, and that gift is so rare it hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years.”

“Just because you don’t believe in it, doesn’t believe it isn’t real,” Vilde says, sounding annoyed. She looks riled up to start an argument, which would be fine if not for the fact that they’re in the library and Madam Pince would likely eat them if they made noise above a quiet conversation.

“We’ve had this discussion a million times before,” Eva interjects, trying not to make it awkward. “Maybe just agree to disagree?”

“It’s not disagreeing if I’m _right_ ,” Noora says under her breath, and Eva gives her a look. “Fine. Sorry. I’m just—not feeling it today.”

Eva gives her another look. “What did William do this time?” Noora colours.

“Nothing!” she says, a tad too loud for the library, earning her a dirty stare from Pince. She swallows and looks away, contrite, before glancing back up at Eva and the girls. “Last night we, you know. Did it.” Eva’s eyebrows reach towards her hairline.

“You’re kidding.”

Noora sighs. “No. But I. I wish I was. I think it was a mistake because after I felt all—and I left in a rush and now he’s pissed at me for that and I just—I don’t know what to do. And I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Vilde reaches a hand across the table and clutches Noora’s fingers tightly. “If he made you feel that way then he isn’t worth your time,” she says seriously. Eva’s heart bursts with pride for her. Only last year Vilde was obsessed with William, but after her pregnancy scare and a healthy dose of reality that the Penetrator boys are all absolute fuckheads (a reality check Eva shared when she found Chris Schistad hooking up with Sara in the broom sheds) she had started to stick up for herself, realising how much better she was than them, and Eva couldn’t be happier. Now if only Noora shared their view, but she’d been tangled up in William for too long to easily uproot him from her life.

“But I love him,” Noora says then, and Eva sighs.

“I know,” she says, reaching across to place her hand over Vilde’s, Noora’s ensconced between them. “But sometimes it’s the people you love who hurt you the most.”

Noora gives a watery smile and quickly excuses herself. The rest of the girls watch her go.

“William doesn’t deserve her,” Vilde says sadly. Sana snorts.

“William doesn’t deserve the gum on the bottom of her shoe,” she says, and they all laugh, breaking the tension. Eva catches Sana’s eye and grins. She thinks back to her early years at Hogwarts, and the isolation she felt with Jonas and Isak as her only friends, and even before that, the anxiety and sense of _never-good-enough_ that came with hanging out with Ingrid and Sara. And even though those years were the loneliest of her life, Eva wouldn’t trade them for anything if this is what she had to look forward to in the end: a warm and solid friendship with four of the kindest, most caring girls in the whole school who would do anything for Eva if she only said the word. The feeling is mutual.

Eva glances back down at her dream diary. _A sense of isolation caused by failure_. Something flips unpleasantly in her stomach. The dream was fake, so surely the interpretation would be too? And maybe Eva would dismiss it as nonsense if only her past was not her past, and if she didn’t know just how damaging isolation can be. Her Divination homework suddenly holds little appeal. She closes the diary with a sigh.

“Help me with this Defence essay?” she asks Sana, who smiles in response.

“Sure,” she says, shifting closer to the table until Eva can make out her individual eyelashes, black and perfectly curled. “I’ve got time.”

 

*

 

The notice for Quidditch tryouts is hanging on the pinboard in the common room when Eva returns from Charms class. She feels her insides bubble at the sight of it. Finally, something she’s actually good at.

“I take it you’re coming then?” Eva turns to see Yousef grinning at her.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she says. “Mahdi and I carry this team on our shoulders and you know it.”

Yousef rolls his eyes. “You still have to try out, though. Even if you’re a shoe-in.”

“So do you.”

He shrugs and turns towards the tunnelled entrance to the boys dorms. “I’ll see you there,” he calls over his shoulder, and Eva grins. They’ve been on the team together since Eva’s second year, when she was drafted as the only female Beater across the entire school. He may be annoying, but when push comes to shove she’ll always keep the Bludgers away from him and the rest of her players. She’s nice like that. And when it’s Mahdi on the field with her (usually, although not always, including two memorable games where he was stuck in detention and they had to sub in a random third year) they really are unstoppable.

Eva can’t wait for the season to begin. When she joins Sana for class the next day it must be written all over her face, because Sana’s mouth does that half-smile, half-smirk that never fails to make Eva grin.

“Lemme guess,” she says as Eva unloads her books. “Quidditch?”

“Oh, come on,” Eva laughs, sliding into her seat. “You’re as excited as I am, admit it.”

Sana rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. She plays Chaser on the Slytherin team, and Eva takes particular delight aiming Bludgers at her during their games against each other. No hard feelings, they both just really love to win. And it’s pretty enjoyable seeing Sana snatch the Quaffle from under Yousef’s nose, even if it means Slytherin will likely score.

Eva just really, really loves Quidditch, okay? And she loves watching Sana play.

“Excited to take back the Cup,” she says, and Eva grins.

“You’re just embarrassed because we steamrolled you in the final last year.”

“That was _not_ a steamroll,” Sana snaps. “That was… tactical defeat.”

“Uh huh.” McGonagall walks into the room as the second bell rings, and the class begins to settle down. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sana sends her a dirty look but Eva knows she doesn’t mean it. Not really, anyway. McGonagall calls for their attention and Eva glances away to the front of the room, her insides still bubbling. If there’s one thing she loves most about Quidditch, it’s the freedom of racing through the air with no walls or ceiling to close her in. It’s the high she gets from that freedom, the feeling of invincibility, that she could do anything if only she put her mind to it. Grounded, in the real world, Eva is mediocre at best. But up there?

She’s limitless.

 

*

 

Mahdi falls into step beside her on their way to the pitch. “Ready for another round?” he asks with an infectious grin, and Eva responds in kind.

“Born ready,” she says, and he laughs.

The rest of the team is on the pitch already, along with a dozen or so new hopefuls, five of which are second-year students allowed to tryouts for the first time. Most of the players make fun of them but Eva tries not to, considering that was her five years ago, and she was actually successful in making the team, a testament to the fact that just because the kids are short and often scrawny, doesn’t mean they should be dismissed altogether.

Yousef smiles at Eva when he sees her and fistbumps Mahdi. “She’s doing Beaters first,” he says, meaning Astrid, their seventh year captain and Keeper. “Batter up.”

Eva suppresses a laugh and walks with Mahdi over to Astrid, who grins at them, nose scrunching. “This is more a formality for you two than anything,” she tells them. “Although we do have a couple hopefuls for Beater, a second year and a fifth.” She inclines her head to the new group, all clutching broomsticks tightly and looking like they might throw up. “Go easy on them, yeah? Not too easy. But try not to embarrass them.”

“We won’t,” Eva promises, nudging Mahdi when he doesn’t say anything. He quickly nods.

“Good,” Astrid says, then raises her voice to address the crowd. “Alright, listen up! Beaters up first. Anyone trying out for the position, please make your way to the front.” Eva and Mahdi stay put, watching as the two hopefuls shoulder through the cluster of people. The boy Eva assumes is the second year is small even by twelve-year-old standards, and the fifth year is a pretty girl whose hands are shaking so bad it looks like she’s actually using her broomstick to sweep the grass.

“Go easy on them,” she says to Mahdi under her breath. He rolls his eyes but nods.

They go on a flying drill at first, twice around the pitch, interweaving through the hoops at both ends and then performing a couple reaction tests. Astrid then hands them bats and releases one Bludger first, then the second. The bat is a warm and familiar weight in Eva’s hand, and she relishes the cracking sound and vibration sent up her arm when she gives the Bludger a good solid hit. Mahdi grins wildly as he unleashes the full fury of his upper-body strength, pelting the Bludger all the way to the other end of the pitch before it regains its trajectory and hurtles back towards them. The fifth year girl, Lisbeth, Eva remembers, manages to strike her Bludger but the force behind it is weak, while second year Daniel is not so lucky: he manages to dodge the Bludger with his body but it catches the tail end of his broom, sending him spiralling through the air. After a couple more minutes of this, Astrid calls them down and they wrestle the Bludgers back into the chest.

“Good flying everyone,” she informs them. “Eva, Mahdi, welcome back to the team. Lisbeth, Daniel—I’m sorry but this year isn’t for you. Keep at it, though, and you may make a Beater yet!” She gives them an encouraging smile as they trudge off the pitch, Lisbeth almost in tears. Eva feels her heart pang for them, as she does every year at tryouts for the failed hopefuls, but tries not to let it get to her. Hufflepuff may be the least competitive house, but they still want to win, and they can only do that with the best players on the pitch.

Feeling quietly proud that she qualifies as one of those players, Eva gives Astrid a quick smile when she spots a familiar black shape in the stands, green-and-silver scarf fluttering in the gentle wind. She bites back a laugh and, after congratulating Mahdi, jogs over to the stands and up the stairs until she reaches the row where Sana is waiting for her.

“I didn’t see you come in,” she says, putting down her broom and slumping into the seat beside Sana. “Were you watching long?”

Sana gives her an unreadable look. “Nice flying.”

For some stupid reason, Eva blushes. “Thanks,” she says quickly, bringing her hands into her lap and then changing her mind and sliding them under her thighs to keep them warm instead. “You didn’t have to come.”

Sana shrugs. “Not like I had anything better to do,” she says, but Eva can hear the smile behind her words.

“Thank you,” she says, trying to infuse her voice with sincerity. This time Sana’s smile is real.

They watch the rest of the tryouts together. Mahdi comes up to join them after a bit, and then Yousef once he’s secured his position as Chaser. Seeker tryouts are left to last like always, and Eva feels a little sorry for the five hopefuls clustered on the pitch around Astrid as the rest of the team (and Sana) watch intently from the stands. Their previous Seeker had graduated last year, and on the pitch, Astrid looks desperate to replace her. None of the contenders look very promising on the ground, but Eva has learned to reserve her judgement until they’re in the air. That’s what earned her a position on the team, after all.

Astrid ends up giving the position to a tall fourth year girl named Berit. She’s big for a Seeker but fast on her broom, one of the newer Cleansweeps, and has her long hair bound up into buns Princess-Leia style. Eva and the rest of the team swarm her on the pitch in congratulations, and when Eva glances back up at the stands, Sana is nowhere to be seen.

 

*

 

Eva finds Sana at dinner that night. She slips as inconspicuously as possible onto the Slytherin table, giving Isak a sheepish grin when he looks at her, earning herself an eyeroll in return. Sana smiles when she sees her.

“Hey,” she says, tucking into the salad on her plate. Eva smiles back and helps herself to sausages and mashed potato. “That new Seeker. Berit? She’s good.”

“Jealous?” Eva challenges, stabbing a piece of sausage with her fork. Sana laughs.

“You _wish_ ,” she retorts. “She’s good, but can she keep up with Isak?”

Eva drops her sausage. “ _Isak_?” She glances down at the boy in question, currently chatting to a couple Slytherin girls from their year. “ _Isak_ is your Seeker? But he’s always been Chaser?”

Sana shrugs. “Our Seeker graduated, same as yours, and Isak’s actually pretty good—don’t tell him I said that. We had a surplus of tryouts for Chasers, so it seemed like the best option.”

Eva blinks in amazement and picks up her sausage again. “Wow. That’s? Wow. Remind me to congratulate him.”

“I wouldn’t,” Sana warns darkly. “His ego’s big enough.” Eva laughs and, after a moment, Sana joins her. Isak glances over at the two of them and when she meets his gaze, Eva just laughs even harder. Isak looks confused but Eva waves him away with a mouthed _later_.

Eventually their laughter dies down enough for Eva to finally eat her sausage. Sana is still grinning into her food, and Eva nudges at her shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t come to your tryouts,” she says. “If I’d known you’d be at mine…”

Sana turns her head and smiles, real and warm. “It’s okay,” she says, shrugging. “It’s pretty much the same team as last year—with Isak as Seeker, and a new second-year Chaser. Janne. She’s fast.”

“Chris and William still Beaters then?” Eva asks, keeping her voice casual. Sana rolls her eyes and something about her expression seems to shutter.

“Yeah. Last year with those meatheads, thank God.” She gives Eva a look. “I thought you were over Chris.”

“I am.” Sana gives her another look. “I _am_ , I swear! It was just a question, Jesus Christ.” Eva stabs at the next bit of sausage with more force than necessary; it skids across the plate and falls onto the floor. She and Sana both watch it go in silence, until Eva sighs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. But he’s a cheating fuckboy who I swear I’m over, okay? Now all I wanna do is _destroy him_ on the Quidditch pitch.”

Sana grins, offering Eva a cherry tomato from her salad. “I’d like to see you try,” she says, because the Penetrator boys may be arseholes but they’re on her team, after all—and if there’s anyone who understands Eva’s competitiveness when it comes to Quidditch, it’s Sana, who wants to win just as much, if not more, than Eva.

Quidditch is what started their friendship, after all. Eva never wants to let go of that.

 

*

 

_Three years ago…_

 

Eva’s nervous for her first Ancient Runes class. Neither Isak nor Jonas chose the subject, both opting for Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures, which means she’ll be alone in a class for the first time in three years. Not to mention that Ancient Runes now seems a lot harder than it did when Eva first chose it as her elective.

Sighing, Eva drags her feet into the classroom, taking a seat in the middle of the room on a shared desk by herself. There are only a couple other students in the class, none from Hufflepuff, and neither Sara nor Ingrid seem to be here either, thank God. Laila is, and Eva debates going up to say hello, but another Ravenclaw girl walks in and takes the seat beside Laila so Eva stays where she is. Her heart is beating way too hard for this.

Someone drops into the seat beside Eva, making her jump. She glances over to see Sana Bakkoush, the Slytherin girl who’s coming first in practically every subject in their year. Eva swallows. “Halla?” she says, the word coming out like a question and making her wince. Sana looks at her.

“Halla,” she says, smiling, pulling out her books. “You’re Eva Mohn, right? You were on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team last year.”

Eva blinks in surprise. “Um, yeah. That’s me.”

Sana nods. “You’re an amazing player,” she tells her, and Eva’s heart skips a beat. “I’m trying out for my team this year. Chaser. Hopefully I’ll see you on the pitch.” She smiles again, gentler this time, and it coaxes one out of Eva.

“I’m sure you will,” she says, fiddling with her robes. “Your brother’s Elias, right? On the Ravenclaw team?” Sana nods. “Well if it’s genetics letting him play like that, you’ll have no problem.”

This startles a laugh out of Sana. “Thanks,” she says. “Although between you and me, I’ve always been a better player than Elias.”

Eva grins. “Then you’re a shoe-in.”

They lapse into silence, waiting for the teacher to make an entrance. Sana flips open her textbook. “This looks interesting, don’t you think?” Eva makes a humming noise.

“Um, yeah. It looks harder than I thought it would be, though. I should’ve picked Muggle Studies.”

Sana glances over. “Why?”

Eva shrugs, embarrassed. “I’m Muggleborn. It would’ve been an easy pass.”

Sana laughs. “Now I wish I’d picked it. You could’ve helped me with the assignments.”

“Well, I mean.” Eva shrugs. “If you wanted to study together for any other subjects, that would be cool.”

“Yeah?” Sana asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah.”

Sana smiles again, softly this time, and Eva’s heart speeds up all over again. She looks away when the professor finally walks in, but the ghost of that smile stays with Eva all through the lesson and into the rest of the day.

 

*

 

The first game of the season rolls around far too quickly in Eva’s opinion. She is, of course, keen to get back out onto the pitch, but with the new additions to their team it feels as though they haven’t had time to prepare themselves properly. And Berit is good, but she also has a bad case of butterfingers which didn’t rear its head until two days before their match against Ravenclaw. The morning of the match, Eva feels a little like tearing her hair out. She can’t eat her breakfast, which is never a good sign, and last night she’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep, maximum, so she’s really not feeling it. Mahdi gives her a commiserating look from across the table, but Eva notices he has no problem tucking into a plate of eggs and a glass of pumpkin juice.

She finally manages to stomach one slice of buttered toast and half a glass of pineapple juice before it’s time to head out onto the pitch. Jonas wishes her good luck before she stands up from across the table, and Sana and Isak are waiting for her and Mahdi by the doors, walking them out to the pitch.

“Thought you’d be going for Ravenclaw,” Eva says to Isak. “Aren’t Even’s friends on the team?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you’re _my_ friends, of course I’m going for you.” Eva smiles, touched.

Sana grabs her sleeve just before Eva has to peel off to get changed. “Good luck,” she says, then after a moment’s hesitation, unwinds Eva’s scarf from around her neck and wraps it around herself. Her proximity is almost too much to bear, but Eva handles it. She gives a small laugh when Sana has put it on, and reaches out to flick the ends with her fingers.

“Yellow suits you,” she says, and if she didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn that Sana blushes.

“Go win for me, okay?” Sana says softly, and Eva feels like breaking open to fit her inside.

“Okay,” is what she says instead, giving Sana a quick hug before turning on her heel and racing towards the change rooms without looking back once.

Astrid gives them a pep talk once they’re all in their gear, brooms in hand, and Eva is alarmed to see that she looks like she might throw up any second now. If their captain feels that way then what hope do the rest of them have?

From across the room, Mahdi gives her a reassuring smile. Eva breathes out, long and deep, and smiles back.

She can do this.

At five minutes to game time the team traipses out onto the pitch. Ravenclaw is already there waiting for them, and Eva watches as Yousef gives Elias a fistbump before each return to their respective halves of the pitch. She eyes off the Ravenclaw Beaters: both new to the team this year, a girl and a guy, built as fuck but looking very green around the gills.The sight of them calms something inside Eva: she’s been doing this for four years already, with two Quidditch Cups under her belt and looking for a third. She can do this.

Madam Hooch blows her whistle and they get into their starting positions. Eva knocks bats with Mahdi before separating, getting on her broom and flying up into her position on the left side of the pitch. She takes a deep breath. Hooch releases the Snitch and the Bludgers, pauses for a long moment with the Quaffle in her hands, then throws it into the air.

Game on.

Yousef grabs the Quaffle first, weaving through the Ravenclaw players with an ease born from six years practice, and scores easily. Eva whoops from her broom. Getting the first goal may not determine the match but it sure is a confidence booster. Elias scores next, Astrid narrowly missing the save, and as the playing field levels out the game gets a whole lot faster. Eva stops paying attention to the path of the Quaffle and directs all her focus towards the Bludgers. She and Mahdi take turns in pelting them towards the Ravenclaw Chasers and Seeker, and Eva takes great pleasure in cutting off the trajectory of the freshly minted Ravenclaw Beaters. She would feel bad for them if they weren’t the opposing team. As it is, when Eva whacks a Bludger straight into the path of the girl Beater, snapping off the front of her broom and causing her to spiral down to land on the soft grass, all she can do is grin like a fool. Mahdi flies past her and knocks their bats together, laughing wildly. Eva can hear the boos from the Ravenclaw section of the stands but hey, she’s just doing her job. The cheers from the Hufflepuff section are louder anyway.

Fifteen minutes later, a rush goes through the crowd, and the cheering rises into a crescendo. Eva zeroes in on the Seekers, almost neck in neck as they race around the pitch chasing their elusive prize. She would hit a Bludger towards Laila, the Ravenclaw Seeker, if she weren’t scared that she’d accidentally hit Berit instead. Eva whacks the nearest Bludger towards the Ravenclaw Chaser with the Quaffle, who drops it. Yousef snatches the ball up and scores, but no-one is really paying any attention.

Eva watches as Berit puts on a last burst of speed on her Cleansweep, and can just make out her hand closing around the tiny golden ball. She pulls up short in the air and raises her closed fist in triumph.

“Yes!” Eva shrieks, pelting on her broom towards Berit, who is red in the face but smiling so wide it must hurt. They land side by side and Eva pulls her into a hug, the rest of the team converging on them and shouting until their voices go hoarse. Mahdi gives Eva a giant bear hug, lifting her clean off her feet and she laughs. It’s only the first game, by rights they shouldn’t be this happy—and yet this is what Hufflepuffs do best, isn’t it? Happiness born out of hard-work. (Also humility, apparently, but that’s saved for things outside of the realm of Quidditch.)

Eva glances over her shoulder at the Ravenclaw team, who are standing around looking dejected but not overly sad. She catches the eye of Elias and pokes her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes as he makes his way over, clasping Yousef’s hand and pulling him in for a quick hug.

“Great game,” he says to them, eyes crinkling when he smiles. “You’ve got a dynamite Seeker there.”

“Isn’t she just?” Eva agrees, voice bubbling. She laughs again, subsiding when there’s a tap on her shoulder. She turns to see the girls, all grinning at her and sporting Hufflepuff colours, even Noora, who couldn’t care less about house spirit if she tried.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” they shout in unison, swarming her, and Eva laughs delightedly. Noora and Vilde kiss her on the cheek, Chris gives her a high-five, and Sana just tucks a smile into Eva’s neck as they hug. It feels better than anything Eva could possibly imagine. This, this is the feeling that she loves: this is limitless.

 

*

 

Hufflepuff house is on a victory high for at least two weeks after the match. Eva and her teammates are treated like minor celebrities, and Mahdi’s infectious grin spreads through all corners of the common room. Eva sleeps the best she has in weeks, turns in her homework on time (and, on one memorable occasion, early!), and trains harder in Quidditch practice than she has since first making the team in second year. She isn’t really sure why this year is different, why suddenly everything is going her way, because she’s won Quidditch matches before and it’s never felt like this.

(Privately, she thinks it might have something to do with the way Sana has been looking at her lately: soft smiles and warm eyes and enough kindness in her voice to make Eva’s heart want to bubble over in happiness. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, right before she falls asleep or when she wakes up too early and lies half-awake in the cold dawn of the morning, Eva allows herself to entertain the thought of the future. Of Sana maybe, possibly, feeling the same way Eva does—and of building something from those feelings, something tangible and lasting and _real_. She never lets herself dwell too long on those thoughts, though. Eva’s long since learned the hard way that imagination can be dangerous, and placing endless hope in someone else is always bound to come back and bite her.)

(Maybe, possibly, she thinks Sana could be the exception.)

Later that week, she and the girls find themselves in the library again, Sana and Noora working on Potions, Chris on Astronomy, and Vilde and Eva on their Divination dream diaries again. Eva can’t help but look at Sana every thirty seconds or so, because she’s still wearing Eva’s scarf, the one she stole more than a week ago before the match. The weather has been cooling down rapidly and Eva wouldn’t mind her scarf back now and again, but she is loath to ask Sana for it. Seeing the Hufflepuff colours on her does funny things to Eva’s heart. She wonders what Sana thinks when she’s wearing it. If she realises what it does to Eva; if she wants it to make her feel this way.

A draught cuts through the high-ceilinged library and Eva shivers through her robes. Sana glances up from her Potions essay. “Cold?” she asks, and finally, Eva thinks, she’s going to give her scarf back and they can return to some sense of normalcy, of routine, where Sana doesn’t acknowledge this great big bursting _thing_ between them and Eva keeps her feelings behind a tightly locked door and she isn’t constantly questioning the meaning behind Sana wearing her scarf every minute of every day. Except.

Except Sana is not unwinding the Hufflepuff scarf from around her neck. She is instead reaching into her bag and pulling out something long and green and silver and—oh.

Eva silently takes the Slytherin scarf offered to her and winds it around her neck. Even though Sana can’t have worn it for over a week, because whenever Eva has seen her with a scarf it’s been Eva’s, the fabric still smells like her: citrus and sandalwood and something reminiscent of chocolate, only sweeter. Eva surreptitiously burrows her chin into the fabric. “Thanks,” she manages to say, trying for a smile but feeling it come out strangled. “I’ll give it back later, promise.”

Sana waves her hand. “No need. I’ve already got a scarf.” She smiles at Eva, slow and serene. Eva blinks quickly and looks down at her hands. Her nails are bitten and the wind chill has eaten away at the skin of her knuckles, making them bleed.

“Thanks,” she says again, stupidly, and flips through her dream diary for something to do. She can feel several sets of eyes on her but when she glances up, the girls are all steadfastly looking at their homework. Chris’ star chart is upside down. Eva feels something squeeze inside her chest, and she stands abruptly. “I need—I need to go.”

Sana looks up at her. “Where?”

“I—um. Quidditch practice.” Sana frowns.

“You don’t have practice today.”

“Yeah,” Eva says, gathering up her books and shoving them haphazardly into her bag. “Yeah, ah, Astrid called a last minute one. Gotta go!” She slings the strap of her bag over her shoulder and hurries out of the library, walking so fast that by the time she reaches the kitchens and the entrance to the common room, she’s more out of breath than she is after a Quidditch match.

Eva tickles the pear and slips inside the entrance, dumping her bag on the floor and flinging herself face-down onto the thankfully empty couch in front of the fireplace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she says into the couch cushion, words muffled by the fabric.

“Bad day?” a voice asks, and Eva groans.

“Fuck off,” she says to Jonas without lifting her head. “Leave me alone to wallow.”

“I could do that,” Jonas says, and then he’s shifting her legs so he can sit down, placing her legs over his lap. “Or, I could be a good friend and listen to what’s bothering you, so. What’s up?”

Eva sighs, turning her head to the side so she can speak clearly. “As my ex-boyfriend I feel like this is a problem you don’t really want to know about.”

“Ah.” Jonas leaves a tactful silence in his wake. “You know, that doesn’t matter? The ex-boyfriend thing. I’m still your friend, Eva. And I’m here for you.” He is silent for another long moment. “And so is Mahdi. And Magnus. And Berit and Mette and Kirsten because you really didn’t pick a very private place for your meltdown.”

Eva sighs again and sits up, swinging her legs off Jonas’ lap and resting her elbows on her knees so she can put her head in her hands. “Can everyone else please leave?” she asks to the room at large. Bless Hufflepuffs and their loyalty. She hears the girls wander up to the dorm room, and Mahdi and Magnus heading out of the common room to go raid the kitchens. Only then does she let herself look at Jonas. He looks at her the same way he always did: all serious and eyebrow-y, like she is someone worth loving.

“I like Sana,” she says in a small voice that the size of the common room seems to swallow right up. “And I think the girls know.”

To his credit, Jonas doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink. He nods, thoughtful, and looks at Eva, looks _into_ her. “And is that a bad thing?” he asks, voice gentle. Eva blinks away sudden tears.

“No,” she says. “Yes. Maybe? I don’t know.”

“You know you just gave me every possible answer to that question, right?” Eva shoves him and he laughs, breaking the tension of the moment. She remembers how it felt to love him the way she used to: a soft love, edges worn down like sea-smoothed glass, translucent green and cool to the touch.

“Shut up,” she tells him, smiling that same sea-glass smile. “It’s just. Weird? And. Because Sana doesn’t feel the same, so.” She scuffs at the rug with her shoe. “I kind of hoped I’d never have to tell them.”

“That you like girls?” Jonas asks softly.

“That I like _Sana_ ,” Eva corrects. “I was gonna tell them about the girls thing. Well. I was thinking about it.” She looks at Jonas. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Thank you,” he says, and it sounds sincere. And then: “Do I have some sort of beacon over my head or something? ‘A coming-out safe space’? Only, Isak told me almost this exact same time last year. Maybe I should make business cards.”

“Oh my God, shut _up_ ,” Eva laughs, shoving him again. She feels light, the same way she feels when flying only this time her feet are on the ground. She’s silent for a moment, the words building up inside of her, before she decides _fuck it_ and lets them out. “But I mean, while you’re listening. I’m bisexual, I think. I mean, I know. Fuck. Why was that so hard?” She’s blinking away tears rapidly now and Jonas has probably clued in on it because he reaches across and takes her hand. His fingers feel familiar interlaced with hers, like a ghost, or a memory. Jonas gives her hand a soft squeeze.

“I think it’s meant to be hard. The hardest things are always the most important,” he tells her, and she loves him, still, just different to the way she used to. They fall into a comfortable silence, their hands clasped between them. The common room door opens and a group of first-year girls tumble in, looking red and breathless from the wind. “Scram,” Jonas says mildly, and they do. Eva laughs.

“You’re the best ex-boyfriend I’ve ever had,” she tells him, and he grins.

“I’m honoured.” She scoots closer to rest her head against his shoulder. The fire has made her warm and sleepy, and Jonas smells like weed and cloves and happiness. “Although considering my only competition is Chris Schistad, I feel like it’s not that much of a compliment.”

“Just shut up and take it,” Eva says, and so he does. And maybe the girls have figured out Eva’s crush on Sana, and maybe they’re talking about it behind her back, and maybe Eva will have to come out sooner than she wanted to. But here, now, with Jonas a comfortable and familiar presence beside her, assured in the knowledge that she has at least one friend left in the world, Eva can’t bring herself to care.

 

*

 

To Eva’s pleasant surprise, the girls don’t try to corner her over the next few days. They share glances when they think she’s not looking, and there’s always an expectant sort of silence when she’s alone with any of them, but they don’t try and push, and Eva loves them for that. She wears Sana’s scarf as often as she dares, and after the first couple days of weird glances, no one even blinks twice at the sight.

It gives Eva hope.

She tells Noora first. They’re lying on the grass beside the lake, savouring the last rays of the sun before sunset. Sana’s doing a Potions study session with Isak, while Vilde and Chris are at some Gryffindor meeting. Noora _was_ quizzing Eva for their Charms quiz the next day but they’d both given up pretty quickly. It’s too nice of a day not to just lie back and soak in the sun.

Noora is telling Eva about the group of seventh years who’d been stuck outside Ravenclaw Tower for over an hour, unable to answer the riddle and so stressed from their NEWT study that one girl had actually broken down into tears and had to be escorted to the hospital wing for a Calming Draught. Eva laughs at that, even though it feels a little mean to. Although sixth year is a lot more intense than fifth was, it still remains the calm before the storm, and Eva wants to savour it for as long as possible before the NEWTs force her to knuckle down and study properly.

The two of them lapse into silence, and Eva listens to the gentle splash of the lake water as it laps against the shoreline. She takes a long, slow breath, then another, and another. The sun is disappearing quickly, and it’s growing cold.

“I’m bisexual,” Eva says to the cooling dusk air, staring up at the darkening sky. Noora makes a small sound beside her and sits up. Eva follows. They look at each other, blonde and auburn hair swinging like twin curtains between them.

“Thank you for telling me,” Noora says softly, smiling, reaching out to take Eva’s hand to give it a squeeze. Eva smiles back: tentatively at first, then carefree.

“Why do people say that?” she asks, tilting her head back to look at the sky again. “ _Thanks for telling me_. Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you, for listening?” She looks back at Noora, whose brow is furrowed in thought.

“I don’t really know,” she replies honestly, shrugging. “I guess… it’s a thank you for trusting me with this.” She smiles at Eva. “Thank you.”

Eva huffs out a laugh and pulls her hand back from Noora’s, clasping her own two together in her lap. “It feels weird to say out loud.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” Noora says, and pauses, a loaded silence. Eva waits. “And is there… anyone you’re interested in?” she asks finally, hesitantly, and Eva rolls her eyes.

“Oh, come on. I _know_ you _know_.” Noora gives her an innocent look, and Eva groans. “You’re really gonna make me say it? Jesus Christ. _Fine_.” She looks down at her hands; picks at the wick of her thumbnail. Noora doesn’t push, but Eva knows she’s waiting. She sighs and looks back up. “It’s Sana, okay?”

Noora’s smile splits open into an impossibly wide grin. “I knew it!” she crows, lunging forward and crushing Eva into a hug.

“I know,” Eva grumbles from where her face is smooshed into Noora’s neck. “I just told you that.” But she hugs her back, tight.

Noora pulls away after a while but stays close to Eva, still grinning, her nose scrunched. “Have you told her?”

Eva scoffs. “You’re kidding.”

“Well I mean, you never know?”

Eva sighs. “I _know_. That’s the _problem_ —I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like—when she looks at me that way, it feels like maybe she feels the same, but then other times—she’s just. I don’t know. You know how hard she is to read.” Noora is quiet, but she nods. Eva sighs again. “I can’t tell her,” she says quietly, dropping her head onto Noora’s shoulder. “I can’t risk ruining what we already have.”

“You’ll never know until you ask,” Noora tells her, and Eva’s heart contracts.

“I know. But I can’t.”

“That’s okay.” Noora pulls back and puts her hands on either side of Eva’s face, holding their gazes. “It’s okay, you know? Everything. You’re okay.”

How is it possible for Eva to hold so much love inside her heart? It spills out of her, seeps from the pores of her skin like sunlight through cracked-open blinds. “I know,” she says, and the words are raw. “Thank you.” Noora smiles and hugs her again. Eva breathes her in. The sun has almost sunk completely, and they’re enveloped in a twilight world. “You’re okay too, you know?” she says after a moment, and something in Noora stills. Eva ploughs on. “You’ll be okay without him. We’re all here for you—you’re not alone.”

This time Noora pushes her back. Eva stares at her face, which is unreadable. “William loves me,” she says, and the words sound hollow. “I love him.”

Eva looks at her, at her bitten nails so much like Eva’s own, at the carefully-applied makeup to hide the bags under her eyes. Eva looks at her and knows the feeling. “That’s what makes it so hard,” she replies, and Noora shuts her eyes tight, like she’s trying to block out the world. Eva would reach for her but the tightness in her body suggests that it’s a bad idea.

The sun finally dips below the horizon. Eva stands and wipes the grass from her robes. “Come on,” she says, offering Noora a hand to help her stand. “I’ll sneak into the kitchens for some of that chocolate milk you like.”

Noora takes the hand and pulls herself to her feet. She won’t make eye contact with Eva, but there’s a small smile on her face. “I’d like that,” she says. Eva grins and leads the way.

 

*

 

The others are easy to tell, after that. She tells Vilde on their way to the Great Hall after Divination, and gets a squeal and a hug in response. Chris hugs her too, grinning widely before asking, with far less tact than the other two girls, if she was finally owning up to her gigantic crush on Sana.

“You’re insufferable,” Eva says, shaking her head, but she’s smiling too. She’s still smiling as they make their way to the Quidditch pitch stands, Eva wearing Sana’s scarf and holding a shimmering Slytherin flag. It’s the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match today, and even though most people in both houses are friends, the old rivalry never fails to flare up during games. Eva’s rather looking forward to it. She’s also privately looking forward to watching Sana on her broom, though judging by the look on Chris’ face, even without saying the words her feelings are obvious. Eva rolls her eyes.

They get seats just as the players are walking onto the pitch. Eva sees Isak and her stomach flip-flops for him as she remembers that this is his first ever game as Seeker. Then she sees Sana and her vision narrows down to her in her Quidditch robes and matching emerald green hijab, fluttering softly in the gentle breeze. She waves her Slytherin flag madly and calls Sana’s name. Sana looks up, eyes finding the girls and then locking onto Eva. Her smile is like the sun.

Hooch blows the whistle and Sana looks away. Eva sits back in her seat, tense with excitement. Noora is quiet beside her, and when she looks, she notices her gaze firmly fixed upon William hovering above the pitch, one hand on his broom and the other gripping his Beater’s bat. Eva nudges Noora with her shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispers when Noora looks over. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Noora says, smiling. “Fine.”

Eva would like to pry, but Hooch has the Quaffle in her hands and the game is about to begin, so she shelves the matter for later. The Quaffle is thrown, the whistle is blown, and the game turns into a frenzy.

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin matches are always brutal to watch. Eva yells herself hoarse, almost losing her flag with how madly she’s waving it whenever Sana scores. She tries to keep an eye on Isak too but he’s just a blur on the field, the occasional flash of silver-and-green robes as he stops in his circling for a moment here and there. Eva wonders how Sana is handling not having him to rely upon as Chaser. They’d always been a good team, the two of them, and seeing them apart on the pitch is an odd adjustment to make.

Twenty minutes in and despite Sana’s best efforts, Gryffindor is leading by sixty points. Eva bites her lip as Mutasim scores again, bringing their lead up to seventy. Isak needs to catch the Snitch, and soon.

A particularly vicious Bludger hit by Gryffindor collides with a Slytherin Chaser’s broom and sends her spiralling to the ground. She stands from the broom on shaky legs, but her arm looks broken. Eva winces. One Chaser down, and Gryffindor is now ninety ahead. Christoffer hits a Bludger towards the Gryffindor Beater in frustration but it’s a wide miss.

Gryffindor scores again. One hundred. Sana manages to nab the Quaffle and score, but the lead is increased by three more consecutive Gryffindor goals. Eva’s voice is almost completely gone from all the screaming she’s doing. Noora, who usually doesn’t give a rat’s arse about the game, is biting her nails so hard they bleed. Eva grabs her hand and holds it tight, squeezing. Noora gives her a grateful look.

And then, suddenly, miraculously, with Gryffindor one hundred and forty points ahead of Slytherin, Isak puts on a burst of speed. His broom is old, one of the earlier Cleansweep models, and Eva knows for a fact the Gryffindor Seeker is on a Nimbus. She squeezes Noora’s hand so tightly the other girl winces, but neither moves to let go.

Isak’s broom may be slow, but he isn’t. He darts around the Gryffindor Seeker in a clever move, makes a sudden dive, and—

He’s done it. Isak pulls up less than ten metres from the ground, his fist closed around the Snitch in triumph. Eva cheers louder than she could have thought possible. The crowd tumbles down from the stands, Eva and her friends caught up in the middle of it, pushing through until they reach Sana. They swarm her in a group hug, and her answering laugh is the sweetest sound Eva has ever head.

“Ten points! _Ten points!_ ” Eva doesn’t care that she’s going full Quidditch-nerd; she really can’t believe it. She spots Isak and tears over to him, jumping on his back from behind and yelling in his ear. “Just in time you absolute idiot!” Isak laughs, setting her down and turning to face her. He’s still holding the Snitch. She punches him in the arm. “I cannot believe you! Where the hell did that come from? _Seeker?_ ”

Isak shrugs. “Just wanted a change of pace, I guess.”

“Well you almost made me need a fucking _pacemaker_ you idiot! Ten points! You couldn’t have caught it any earlier?”

Isak just grins. “Nah, I like to keep you in suspense.” He looks like he wants to say something more but Even appears at his side, and Eva’s heart sighs at the way Isak’s face lights up when he sees his boyfriend. She makes herself scarce as they kiss, shoving her way through the crowd to rejoin the girls, who are still celebrating with Sana.

“You flew so well,” Eva tells her, and Sana grimaces.

“Could’ve flown better. More than a hundred points behind…”

“Hey,” Eva says, knocking their shoulders together. “You guys _did_ lose a Chaser. And the Gryffindor Keeper’s always been good.” Sana shrugs, but she’s starting to smile. “And hey, looks like Isak as Seeker was the right decision?” Sana just rolls her eyes.

“He could’ve caught it a bit earlier, you know, just for peace of mind. But he was alright, wasn’t he?”

Eva laughs, glancing back over her shoulder to where Even has his arm around Isak’s shoulders as they chat to the boys. Her heart thumps in her chest. She wants that. She wants the comfort, the safety net, the warmth of another person beside her. She envies Isak his openness, his unashamed embrace with his boyfriend, when in the space of a year ago he’d been so deep in the closet he was in Narnia. Maybe one day, that will be her. Eva hopes.

She turns back to Sana, who is still staring at her, smiling. Eva feels her cheeks colour. “Looks like we’re on our way to the final again, huh?” she says. “Ready to get your arse whipped by Hufflepuff again?”

Sana only smiles. “Can’t wait,” she says. Despite the cool air, Eva feels warm all over.

 

*

 

After seeing Even and Isak at the match, Eva seems to run into them wherever she goes. Not always in a compromising position, sometimes, blessedly, just talking, but she swears it’s some kind of cosmic joke. Showing her the only out and happy gay couple in the whole school while the way she feels about Sana just grows stronger, and more impossible, every single day.

It’s nearing Christmas, so of course all her teachers have assigned them extra work to finish before the holidays. Eva finds herself in the library in her free period, scanning the bookshelves for anything that will help her on this Transfiguration essay. She rounds a corner in the back section of the library and almost walks straight into Even, who is crowding Isak against the shelves and very clearly kissing him in a way Eva highly doubts is appropriate for the school library. They spring apart when they see her. Eva is pretty sure that all three of their faces are bright red.

“Don’t you have class?” she asks Isak, because she knows for a fact he should be in Potions right now with Sana.

“Um, yeah,” he says, giving her a sheepish grin and rubbing the back of his neck. “We sort of… got carried away and when I realised the time, it was kind of… too late to go.” Eva rolls her eyes and turns to Even.

“Don’t _you_ have class?” she asks, and Even grins.

“Free period. You?”

She nods. “Same.”

They stand around for a moment or two, Isak shuffling his feet awkwardly. Eva looks at them, and thinks, _okay, maybe._ She looks harder, and thinks, _okay_.

“Actually, can I talk to you guys for a sec?” Isak looks surprised but smiles and nods, while Even just looks surprised. Eva supposes it is a bit out of the ordinary. They’ve never had much to do with one another, even with five and a bit years of shared schooling between them. He’d always seemed very aloof, in the same year as Chris and William but not friends with them, hanging out with Sana’s brother but still unapproachable in the way Eva finds all Ravenclaws are. She thinks it’s their confidence; Slytherins and Gryffindors have it too, in spades, but something about Ravenclaws has always unnerved her. There’s a reason Noora’s the only one she ever really talks to. (Anymore, that is. Ingrid being a Ravenclaw probably has a lot to do with her feelings towards the house too.)

The boys are looking at her expectantly, and Eva thinks, _oh, right, I’m doing this_. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. She’s told Jonas, and the girls except Sana, and surely these two would be the easiest because they know what she’s going through—not to mention she and Isak have been friends since first year.

But still. It’s—hard.

Eva sniffles a bit and clears her throat. “Well, um,” she says, looking at the empty space between the two of them so she can get the words out. “I’m, um. I’m bisexual?” She closes her eyes and shakes her head, annoyed with herself. “That wasn’t, um, a question. Sorry. I don’t know why it sounded like one. I’m bisexual.” She chances a glance at Even, who is looking at her and smiling like a lightbulb. She flicks her gaze over to Isak, who looks slightly shocked but is starting to smile too, and when he catches her gaze it turns into a full-blown grin. He takes a couple quick steps forward and throws his arms around Eva, hugging her tight.

“Oh my God,” he says, laughing quietly, because this may be a Big Moment but they’re still in the library, and none of them want Pince on the warpath. “I’m so happy for you,” he tells her, and Eva smiles. That’s the first time anyone’s said _that_ to her. It makes her stomach glow. Maybe all she needed was to tell someone who’s gone through the same thing.

He pulls back and is still smiling at her, warm and familiar. “Any reason you told me, or are you just going down the list?” he jokes, and she shoves him, and it feels normal, nothing feels out of the ordinary, and it’s the loveliest feeling imaginable.

“Both,” she says, looking at Even again, who’s moved closer and is now leaning against the bookshelf behind Isak. He gives her an encouraging smile. “I mean. I was planning on telling everyone eventually. But I guess… I wanted to tell you because. I mean. You know how it feels?” She looks down at her hands. “Sorry if that’s weird.”

“It’s not, seriously,” Isak says, and she looks back up at him. “I get it. I’m glad we can be here for you.” He hugs her again and Eva laughs, her joy infectious. “Is there anything that brought it on? Or just… something you’ve been thinking about for a while?”

“Both, I guess,” Eva says, smiling softly. “I’ve always… known, I think. But… I do like someone. A girl.” A quiet thrill rushes through her at the words. She looks at Even. “Are you… bi too?” she asks hesitantly, because it’s no secret that Even dated Sonja for years before getting together with Isak.

Even smiles and shakes his head. “No, I’m pan. Pansexual,” he clarifies at her confusion. “It’s… similar. But not the same. But I like girls and boys like you.” Eva nods, filing the word away for later. She really needs to learn more about this stuff.

“Not as much as you like Isak, though, right?” she asks with a grin, and Even laughs. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend from behind and plants a kiss in his hair.

“I don’t like anything as much as I like Isak,” he tells her, and even though Isak is blushing like mad, they’re both sporting twin smiles. Eva can’t help but smile back at them.

“I’ll leave you to it, before things get R rated again.” Isak rolls his eyes but makes no move to stop her. She glances around at the bookshelves. “Actually I’ll just… take these first.” Eva plucks a couple volumes from the shelves and tucks them under her arm. “ _Now_ I’ll go,” she says, giving them a wave, but this time Isak does call out to her. She turns and looks back.

“If there’s anything you need,” he says, as seriously as he can with his octopus boyfriend still wrapped around him, “I’m here. I mean it, Eva. Anything.” She smiles as hard as she can at him, clutching his words to her chest for safekeeping.

“Thank you,” she says softly, to both of them, then slips between the shelves to give them privacy once more. She thinks about Isak, one year, two years ago, and how much he’d been keeping to himself for as long as they’d been friends. She remembers him introducing her to Even _as his boyfriend_ , and how free and unashamed his smile had been. Eva thinks about one day introducing Sana that same way.

It’s enough to make her actually look forward to writing this essay, if only so as to bring the future that much closer into becoming a reality.

 

*

 

It’s Christmas far sooner than Eva realised. She’s caught up in the last-minute scramble of quizzes and assignments and Quidditch practice so it’s a shock to realise that, all of a sudden, she has two weeks off from it all.

The girls spend the Friday afternoon of their last week discussing their plans for break. Sana and Chris are heading home, while Vilde, Noora and Eva are staying in the castle, as usual.

“Isn’t it weird, not celebrating Christmas?” Vilde asks, as they nibble on their traditional block of Honeydukes chocolate that they all pitch in for as a substitute for exchanging Christmas gifts. “What do you do over the break?”

Sana shrugs. The question strikes Eva as a little insensitive, although she’d privately been wondering the same thing. Sana has always been private about her faith. She isn’t the only Muslim in their school, but it must still be weird being surrounded by such blatantly Christian iconography, pretty much forcing celebration of a holiday that has no meaning to her. “See my family. Practice Quidditch with Elias. It’s not like we don’t acknowledge it. We go out on Boxing Day to buy the discounted chocolate.” The girls all laugh, but Sana just shrugs. “It’s not weird for me. Just like you not fasting during Ramadan or celebrating Eid isn’t weird for you.”

Vilde nods thoughtfully. “That’s good then. I always worry you’re feeling left out, or something like that.”

Sana smiles and shakes her head. “How could I, when I have friends like you?” She glances over at Eva and there’s something of a tightness in her smile, but no-one comments on it. Eva thinks maybe she imagined it because when she looks back, it’s gone.

They say their goodbyes the next morning. Eva hugs Sana for a beat too long, frozen in the moment and only pulling away when Noora coughs pointedly. Eva blushes, and hopes it passes off as simply being cold. “Have a good break,” she tells Sana, who is smiling and looking like a ray of sunshine against the snow-covered castle grounds.

“See you in the new year,” Sana says, heading down to the horseless carriages with Chris, who waves as they go. Vilde throws her arms around Noora and Eva’s shoulders. They stand like that in the cold until the carriages depart, then separate before heading back into the warmth inside.

“We should do something,” Vilde says, stuffing her hands inside her pockets to ward off the chill.

“Study?” Noora suggests. Eva whacks her on the arm.

“It’s _Christmas_ ,” she says, scandalised. Noora raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“And every single professor gave us work for next term. I have twelve rolls of parchment to write for Arithmancy alone!” Which, okay. She has a point. But Eva just _finished_ submitting a fuckton of homework; she doesn’t want to start on her next load just yet.

“We could sneak into the kitchens?” she suggests hesitantly. “Hufflepuff cliché, I know, but the house-elves make the _best_ mince pies.”

Vilde smiles. It’s taken her a long time to get to this stage; Eva remembers all through fourth and half of fifth year, when she’d barely made an appearance at the Great Hall and was in the hospital wing more times than Eva likes to think about. But she’s come out of the other side, thanks in a lot of ways to Noora, who is staring at Vilde now with a soft smile on her face.

“Fine,” Noora says, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. “I guess I’m outnumbered. Lead the way, cliché.”

They thread their way through the corridors and down to the basement. Eva bypasses the barrels leading to the Hufflepuff common room and leads the girls directly to the fruit bowl painting. She tickles the pear, grasps the doorknob it turns into, and pushes inside the kitchen.

Immediately they are swarmed by house-elves. Eva’s been down here enough times for them to know her by name; they call it excitedly as trays of tea, cakes, and fruit are whisked in front of them.

“Hey, Tabby,” Eva says, smiling down at the house-elf beside her who’s wearing a human child onesie. “This is all so lovely, but we were wondering if we could maybe get some mince pies?” She glances at Noora. “And chocolate milk?”

“Of course, Miss Eva!” Tabby replies with a toothy grin, dashing off no doubt to procure the food. Eva smiles at the elves still surrounding her and takes a lemon tart from one tray to be polite. Since she first found her way into the kitchens in second year, it has taken Eva a long time to get used to the concept of house-elves. None of her friends have any problems with it, being pure or half-bloods and well-versed in wizarding culture. But it had been a shock for Eva and still makes her uneasy at times, although she learned the hard way how badly the elves react when anything to do with wages or freedom is brought up in conversation.

Tabby returns with a plate piled high with mince pies, the house elf next to her holding a jug of chocolate milk and three glasses. Eva, Noora, and Vilde take their seats at a small table in one corner of the kitchen and tuck in. The pies are warm and the milk is sweet enough to warrant them asking for a second jug. Noora is smiling far too big for her face and Vilde has struck up a friendly conversation with a nightie-wearing house-elf named Etta.

“Better than studying, huh?” Eva asks Noora, nudging her gently in the side. Noora rolls her eyes but nods in agreement.

“I suppose… you have good ideas _some_ times.”

“Hey! I have good ideas _all_ times.” The two of them burst into laughter. Noora has always been able to make Eva smile, ever since they first met and became proper friends. Noora had been a transfer student from Beauxbatons, back when she lived in Spain, only coming to Hogwarts in her third year. It was highly unusual and made it hard for Noora to make friends, but this had been around the time when Eva and Ingrid were falling apart, and Eva doesn’t know what she would’ve done without Noora there to get her through the worst of it. After all, it was only with the arrival of Noora that the girls had truly come together as a group. Eva will love her forever for that. She’d always envied Jonas his easy friendship with the boys: Isak since before they even started Hogwarts, and Mahdi and Magnus later on in first year. Her friendship with Ingrid and the others had never felt quite the same, Eva always on the outside looking in as the Muggleborn with the weird accent who could never complete a potion successfully until the end of first year. But she’d found her true friends eventually, for which Eva is forever grateful.

The three of them polish off the pies and milk in good time. They bid farewell to the house-elves and head back down the basement corridor, where Eva sneaks them into the Hufflepuff common room and down the tunnel into her dorm. Her dormmates have all gone home for the holidays, which means there’ll be no judgemental looks over the presence of a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor in the room. Noora and Vilde flop down on the bed next to Eva’s, while Eva lays back against her own duvet and closes her eyes.

“Remind me to never eat that much again,” she groans, and Noora and Vilde both laugh. They fall asleep like that, warm and full and assured of the long break stretching out ahead of them. Just before drifting off, Eva casts her mind to Sana, by now home with Elias and the rest of her family. Eva envies her the love her parents so readily share with her; but mostly Eva misses her, and she hasn’t even been gone a full day.

Eva closes her eyes and dreams about mince pies, snowmen, and kisses under mistletoe.

 

*

 

The break passes quickly, like all holidays do. The girls spend it having snowball fights, writing letters to Sana and Chris, and yes, unfortunately, studying. The teachers are lax with formal seating in the holidays so Eva, Vilde, and Noora sit together during meals, usually at the Hufflepuff table but mixing it around every now and again. The best thing about the holidays is that William has gone home with Chris Schistad, which means Eva and Vilde can at least try to talk to Noora about the elephant in the room.

At first, she deflects. Whenever the subject is brought up, she’ll either remember something urgent she has to rush off to, or if she’s feeling particularly touchy, retort to Eva with a remark about Sana, and then neither of them feel much like talking. On Christmas Day, though, something changes. Noora is already in the Great Hall when Eva arrives, staring disconsolately at her bowl of porridge. Eva drops into the seat beside her.

“Merry Christmas!” she says over-excitedly, trying to startle a reaction out of Noora, but the other girl just looks up, smiles wearily, and says the words back. Vilde comes to join them and shares a worried glance with Eva as soon as she notices Noora’s mood.

“Noora?” she asks hesitantly, braver than Eva is and probably the reason why she’s in Gryffindor. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Noora replies, trying for a smile but failing miserably. When Eva and Vilde say nothing and remain looking at her expectantly, she sighs, putting down her spoon. “William didn’t send me anything for Christmas,” she says softly, then frowns. “That sounds—so juvenile, and I normally wouldn’t care, but. I sent him this—this letter at the beginning of break, and it. It meant a lot. And I thought at least he’d—respond? Even a one sentence reply would’ve been better than…” She trails off, staring into her food. Eva places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Maybe he’s busy,” she says, and she hates that she’s defending him, but Noora looks so fragile now she doesn’t want to upset her even more. “You know how Chris can get… they’re probably having a rager and he’s still sleeping it off.”

Noora shakes her head. “A week-long bender? Come on. Even he wouldn’t do that.” Eva sighs.

“Well… maybe he wants to talk to you in person.” Noora sniffles.

“What, like he hasn’t done since November?”

“I—” Eva pauses, blinks. “What, really?” Noora nods miserably.

“After we… you know, I thought I could make it work, and I tried, but he was just. So cold? And I told him I wanted space and he respected that but then when I tried talking to him again he just… shut me out. Completely.”

“Oh my God, Noora,” Vilde says, wrapping an arm around her back. “Why didn’t you tell us this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” she says. “And I know how you guys feel about him, I didn’t want you to think you’ve been proven right.”

“Noora…” Eva begins gently, reaching out again, but Noora shakes off her hand in anger.

“Don’t say _I told you so_ , I couldn’t bear it,” she says furiously, and both Eva and Vilde back off a little. Noora sighs again. “Sorry. It’s just… a lot. And the worst part is? I still love him. I can’t help it.”

Eva places her hand carefully on the table in front of them and after a moment, Noora reaches out to take it. Vilde places her own hand on top of them both, squeezing gently. “Why don’t we shelve this for after the break, hmm? Let’s just… enjoy Christmas together. You can talk to him when he comes back, and we can be there with you, if you’d like.”

Noora nods slowly. “I—I’d like that.” She looks at the two of them and her smile is heartbreaking. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” Vilde says, pulling her into a hug. “Just say the word, and we’ll be there. Sana and Chris too.” Eva wraps her arms around both of them and the way Noora laughs makes it all worth it.

“Now,” Eva says, pulling back after a long while. “Who’s down for a snowball fight?” Noora laughs again and yeah, maybe it’s a little forced, and maybe her eyes are still sad, but what matters is that she stands, and she smiles, and she follows Eva and Vilde out the doors of the Great Hall, placing a trust in them that Eva will never let go of.

 

*

 

Sana sends Eva a letter on New Year’s Eve, three days before term starts again. Eva has been studying, or trying to, all day, because she’s always been a firm believer that what you do on New Year’s Eve will determine what the following year will be like and, well. As much as she dislikes studying, Eva really wants to keep her grades up.

She opens the letter when she’s alone in her dorm. She, Noora and Vilde have plans to meet up later that night in the Astronomy Tower to see the new year through together, but it’s still a couple hours before she has to go. Eva lies on her bed and cracks open the envelope with her thumbnail. The sight of Sana’s familiar narrow handwriting settles something inside of Eva, and she’s already smiling as she starts to read.

_Eva,_

_Hopefully this gets to you on time. I’m sitting at home in my pyjamas, wearing your scarf because my room is draughty again. Dad really needs to fix my window. Hopefully he gets the hint from all the layers I’m wearing around the house._

_I hope you’ve been having a good break. Vilde wrote to me about Noora and Willhell—_

Eva laughs at that, rereading the name. Yep, Sana really wrote _Willhell_. She shakes her head and continues.

_Vilde wrote to me about Noora and Willhell, and I hope you’re all holding up about that. I’ve sent Noora my love already, but you know how she is. Doesn’t want to accept help until she absolutely has to. Reminds me of me, sometimes. Sorry for being difficult._

_Elias and I spent Christmas playing two-a-side Quidditch with our cousins. Jamilla and I won, of course. You should’ve seen his face. If you think Hufflepuff has a chance of keeping that Quidditch Cup, you’re dead wrong. I’ll save second place for you though, promise._

_Thanks for the birthday wishes. Your gift made me smile. Who knew they made Umbridge-shaped pin cushions? I’ll be sure to use it every day._

_I’m sure you and the girls have plans for tonight, so I’ll keep this short. I wish I was there with you. I love my family, but I miss you more every day I’m here._

_Wear my scarf tonight. I’ll be wearing yours._

_See you soon,_

_Sana._

Eva’s heart is going to beat right out of her chest. She reads the letter again. _I miss you more every day I’m here. Wear my scarf tonight. I’ll be wearing yours_. The words take Eva’s mind to a place she doesn’t know she can come back from. _I miss you_. Surely Sana means that she misses _you_ , plural—as in all the girls, not just Eva? But then why would she write it like that? And why bring up the scarves at all, when they’ve been so blatantly avoiding the topic ever since they swapped them?

Eva realises her hands are shaking, and she sets the letter down on her pillow so she can put her head in her hands. What the fuck. What the actual, actual fuck. Surely… surely the letter means something. Friends don’t write friends stuff like that—except maybe they do? Eva doesn’t know. Her thoughts are a blur. She feels a little like she might throw up.

The letter stares up at her from her pillow, unassuming. Eva swallows hard. She picks it up and reads it again, and then a fourth time. The words don’t change; they don’t suddenly become clear to her, either.

_I miss you._

_Wear my scarf tonight._

_I’ll be wearing yours_.

Eva makes a strangled noise in her throat, dumps the letter on her bedside table, and falls back against the pillows, groaning. This will be the death of her, she’s sure of it. She lies there for a long while, all thoughts of study forgotten. She checks the time eventually—quarter to ten, she’s meeting the girls in fifteen minutes, she should really get organised—and wonders what Sana is doing right now. If she’s thinking the exact same thing about Eva.

Slowly, almost mechanically, she sits up. Stands. Grabs her jumper from her trunk and throws one of Jonas’ old hoodies that she kept for herself over the top. She hesitates, just for a moment, before reaching for Sana’s Slytherin scarf and winding it around her neck. The weight of it feels warm, and right. Eva takes a deep breath, glancing back at the letter lying folded on the table.

“Okay,” she says out loud, stuffing her wand into her back pocket and her hands into her hoodie.  
“Okay.” She takes another deep, slow breath. “One day at a time.” Eva reaches out and tucks the letter under her pillow, pulling the duvet up so the bed resembles some sort of neatness. And then she turns on her heel and heads towards the Astronomy Tower, where Noora and Vilde are presumably waiting for her.

Vilde has a bottle of Muggle champagne already open when Eva arrives. Noora is holding a glass of it, and Eva knows it’ll probably be the only one she nurses all night. She accepts her own glass from Vilde and downs it in one, blinking away the tears that spring to her eyes from the sudden intake of bubbles.

“You okay?” Noora asks bemusedly, watching as Vilde pours Eva another glass.

“Yep,” Eva says, too loudly, her heart drumming in her ears. She considers telling the girls about the letter—they know about her crush on Sana, after all—but it feels too private, somehow, too precious to share over a bottle of champagne. So she tries to control the beating of her heart and lets herself get lost in their conversation, thoughts only straying to Sana every now and again when there’s a lull in their chatter.

Eleven o’clock rolls around, and then eleven thirty, and suddenly it’s sixty seconds to midnight. The girls all put down their glasses (Noora’s still her first of the night, still half-full) and link hands, staring up at the sky. Vilde counts down from her watch.

“Ten, nine, eight,” she says, and Eva thinks of Sana at home, wearing a yellow and black scarf with soft makeup and her black hijab. “Seven, six, five.” Eva closes her eyes and visualises being there with her, imagines reaching out and taking her hand as the crowd around them chants down to midnight. “Four, three, two.” Imaginary-Eva leans in for the kiss at the same time Imaginary-Sana does. “One!” Their lips meet; in real life, Eva sighs, the sound drowned out by Vilde whisper-shrieking, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Eva blinks her eyes back open and stares up at the stars. She doesn’t feel any different, but she knows that something inside of her has shifted, realigned, fallen into place like the last piece of a jigsaw. Sana comes back the day after tomorrow. Eva might just kiss her for real.

 

*

 

Of course, things never turn out the way Eva plans them to.

The girls wait for Sana and Chris in the same spot they saw them off from. Eva’s heart is beating too fast again and she’s wearing Sana’s scarf to ward off the chill (and maybe for another reason, too). The carriages come round the bend soon enough and Eva can’t stop the smile fighting its way across her face.

Sana and Chris climb down from their shared carriage, laughing and waving at the girls. Sana’s nose is scrunched up adorably and Eva wants to kiss the tip of it, smooth out the creases in her forehead and kiss Sana there, too.

But she doesn’t get the chance.

William is in the carriage behind Sana’s and as soon as he sees Noora he heads towards her, his movements slow and purposeful. Christoffer is behind him and Eva resists the urge to roll her eyes. She and Vilde take a protective step in front of Noora, who hasn’t seen William yet but likely will any second.

Chris and Sana reach them, and Sana zeroes in on the frown on Eva’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asks, and Eva really didn’t want this to be their first conversation after two weeks apart but it’s happening and she couldn’t stop it if she tried.

She tries to subtly incline her head towards William but Noora sees and follows her gaze. Her face closes up, cold and stony, when she spots him. He and Christoffer reach their group, and Sana crosses her arms.

“What do you want?” she asks, voice cold, and William gives her a cursory glance but doesn’t answer. That makes Eva furious. He’s an arsehole for what he’s put Noora through, but not even deigning Sana with a response makes it clear he’s a racist jerk too.

“Can we talk?” he says to Noora directly, who frowns, mouth folding down at the edges when she’d been smiling so widely only a minute before. Eva wants to punch him.

“So now you want to talk,” she says quietly, and it isn’t a question. Her hands clench into fists where William can’t see, shielded where she’s standing behind the girls. “I waited for you to reply all break, William.”

“I had a lot of stuff on my mind.”

“Noora’s not just _stuff_ ,” Sana interjects coldly, forcing William to look at her again. “Come back when your head’s not shoved so far up your arse, and maybe she’ll give you the time of day you definitely don’t deserve. Until then, fuck off.”

William’s face darkens. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your Quidditch captain. I can kick you off if I want.”

“Yeah?” Sana raises an eyebrow, smirking. Eva can’t breathe for fear of what might be about to happen. “Then good luck winning without me— _and_ Isak. Because I’ll be taking him with me.” Her smirk transforms into a sunny smile which she flashes at William, Christoffer, and the small gathered crowd around their group. Without another word, Sana turns on her heel, takes Noora’s hand, and pulls her into the castle, the other girls following closely behind.

They walk until they find a private, empty classroom and hustle inside, Chris locking the door behind them with a flick of her wand. Noora sits shakily down on a chair and they cluster around her, anxious. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says finally, looking up at them, and there are tears glistening in her eyes. “I can handle him on my own.”

Vilde makes a wounded noise and reaches forward so she can grab Noora’s hand in both her own. “But you don’t have to,” she says, voice fierce. “You were there for me, you’ve always been there—for all of us. Let us return the favour.”

Noora looks at each of them, and Eva tries for an encouraging smile when her gaze reaches her. Sana is looking at Noora intently, unsmiling, and it’s to her that Noora answers.

“Okay,” she says, voice soft and small. She looks at Vilde and smiles. “Thank you.”

Vilde hugs her, joined by Chris, who beckons both Eva and Sana over. They exchange smiling glances and join in, holding Noora between them like a precious thing, cementing the promise to always look out for each other that’s remained unspoken ever since they became friends.

Eva feels a pang at knowing Sana’s arms are wrapped tightly around her but not in the way she imagined they would be—but her friends come first, they always will, and though the disappointment persists, and the traitorous voice inside her head whispers _if only Noora hadn’t been there_ , Eva wouldn’t trade this moment for anything—not even her first kiss with her crush.

 

*

 

Eva falls back into the rhythm of classes fairly quickly. Astrid ups the ante on their Quidditch practices in preparation for their upcoming match against Gryffindor, and on those evenings Eva returns to her dorm exhausted and, more likely than not, covered in mud.

Sana’s Quidditch practices are a whole different story. Her first one back after the break is a veritable disaster, as she recounts to Eva in Transfiguration.

“I walked over with Isak, and William is just _glaring_ at me so hard I thought his head would explode,” she says, copying down the questions McGonagall has written on the blackboard. “I told Isak what happened before we got there so we were both ready to get kicked off.”

“You weren’t, though,” Eva checks. Sana shakes her head.

“I kind of wish we were though. Playing with William is doing my head in.” She finishes writing down the questions and flips open her textbook, where they’re meant to be drawing the answers from. Eva belatedly does the same. “Anyway, we walked over, and William is fuming but he doesn’t even say anything to us, ignores us completely and sets us on drills? And he’s so mad that he misfires his Bludger and almost cracks Caroline’s skull open.”

Eva’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”

Sana nods. “Chris was flying nearby and he made it just in time to hit it away. But you should’ve seen him.”

“William?”

“Chris!” Sana shakes her head as if she still can’t believe it. “He starts screaming at William, about how he almost killed their Keeper and could he _fucking concentrate before he actually hurts someone_ and William just went like, white as a sheet. He called practice over and raced off to the castle without even changing out of his robes.”

“Oh my God,” Eva says.

“I know.” Sana flips through the textbook to find her answer. “Chris couldn’t even decompress with everyone at the end because Caroline was so hysterical about what almost happened he had to take her to the hospital wing.” She glances quickly at Eva. “I think they’re hooking up.”

Eva waves her hand. “Good for him,” she says. “I don’t care. But I just—I really can’t believe that happened.”

“I know,” Sana says again. “I’m really not looking forward to practice tomorrow. I haven’t seen William since then and I really don’t want to again.”

Eva grimaces. “I don’t blame you.” She makes a half-hearted attempt at answering McGonagall’s first question. “I could come, if you wanted?” she says after a moment. “Sit in the stands, or something. You know, if you wanted someone there.”

Sana smiles at her. “That would be really great, Eva. Seriously.”

“Okay,” Eva replies, ducking her head to hide her grin. “I’ll keep him in line, don’t worry.”

“I never do with you,” Sana says, and Eva doesn’t have time to parse out her words because McGonagall is calling for their attention. She listens as best she can but all she can think about are Sana’s words and her smile, playing over and over in her head like a film reel on repeat.

 

*

 

The following afternoon Eva arms herself with her winter robes, gloves, and woollen socks. She borrows Berit’s scarf because she wants to be as glaringly Hufflepuff as she can. Practice starts at four, so Eva heads out of the castle at quarter to, meeting up with Isak and Sana as they trudge over to the pitch.

“You came,” Sana says, and she sounds surprised. Eva grins at her.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Still.” They smile at each other for a moment before Isak clears his throat.

“Nothing better to do than spy on us for tactics?” he asks as they walk over. Eva rolls her eyes. “If I wanted to spy on a team, trust me, it wouldn’t be yours.”

Isak squawks indignantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eva just shrugs and laughs. She peels off from them to head to the stands as they enter the change rooms. Eva casts a quick Warming Spell on herself when she sits down and waits for the team to emerge.

They do so after a couple of minutes, and even from here Eva can see the cracks running through them: the taut, rigid way William is holding himself, and the slight tremor in the hand holding his bat; Caroline’s wary glances at her captain as she grips her broom tightly; Chris next to her, acting almost like a human shield from William, a frown etched deep into his face where Eva has only ever seen a perpetual sleazy smile. Sana and Isak walk together, as do the other two Chasers; but Eva knows that’s not enough. Quidditch teams have to trust each other implicitly on the pitch, and from where Eva’s sitting, it looks like that trust has run thin.

She gives Sana a little wave when she looks over, earning herself a small smile in return. Eva pokes her tongue out at Isak, who flips her the bird before mounting his broom and taking off.

Every member of the team is a good flier. They wouldn’t have made the cut if they weren’t. The Chasers work well together, even with the new adjustment of Isak’s absence. But it’s glaringly obvious that they’re not a team the way they should be. Chris and William have no dialogue between them like Beaters should, Caroline can’t keep still on her broom and misses far more goals than she usually would, and William’s presence is like a thundercloud on the pitch, bringing everyone else down with him.

After Caroline lets in her tenth goal in a row, William loses it. He flies towards her, yelling about poor form and lack of effort, and it’s then that Caroline bursts into tears. Now it’s _Chris_ who’s yelling at _William_ , and a collective sigh goes through the rest of the team as they realise that practice is once again over for the day.

Chris is still yelling at William as they land, throwing a protective arm around Caroline’s shoulders as William hurls abuse at her. Isak steps in between them, and Eva can’t hear what he says but it calms Chris down somewhat, though William remains fuming. Chris and Caroline walk off the pitch, the others watching them go. Eva stands and hurries down the steps to the field, which is when William spots her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he says when she’s close enough. “You’re fucking spying?”

“No, I’m fucking not,” Eva replies, venomous. She comes to a halt in-between Sana and Isak. “And from the looks of things, you’re not much of a team to spy on anyway.”

William swears at her and stalks off the pitch. Sana gives a shrug. “Guess practice is over,” she says to Isak and the remaining Chasers. They head to the change rooms together, Eva hovering outside until Sana is done.

“I don’t think I really believed you before,” Eva says as they trudge up towards the castle. “But it’s even worse than you described.”

Sana shakes her head in disgust. “We’re going to lose this season and it’s gonna be thanks to Dickhelm and his absolute inability to grow the fuck up.” Eva wants to disagree but she can’t. Sana’s right. William fucked up Vilde’s life last year, seems set on fucking up Noora’s too, and now he’s moved on to fuck up his own team’s chances at the Cup. Eva would feel sorry for him if he wasn’t such an arse.

“Looks like Hufflepuff’s gonna keep the Cup after all,” she says to lighten the mood, and miraculously, it makes Sana smile.

“You’d better,” she says. “I’m not finishing the year losing to _Gryffindor_.”

Eva just laughs.

 

*

 

To Sana’s great relief, Hufflepuff steamrolls Gryffindor in their next match. Eva takes a vicious kind of enjoyment from it, particularly when Berit catches the Snitch less than fifteen minutes into the game, crushing Gryffindor’s hopes of closing the score margin.

“Two hundred and ten to thirty,” Eva says to Berit after the match, pulling her into a hug. “You’re the best fucking decision Astrid has ever made.” Berit just grins and peels off to celebrate with her friends.

“You’ve got the Cup in the bag if you keep this up,” Sana says from behind her. Eva turns and crushes her in a hug. “Though you still have to beat us next month.”

“Somehow I doubt it’ll be too difficult,” Eva laughs, and Sana rolls her eyes but smiles.

They celebrate that night in the Gryffindor girls’ dorm, Vilde and Chris’ roommates happy to accommodate a Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin into their midst. Chris pulls out a bottle of Firewhiskey from nowhere and they share it around, Sana and Noora opting for the sodas Chris passed their way.

“Okay, okay,” Vilde says, once they’ve gotten halfway through the bottle. “Truth or dare.” The girls send up a collective groan, Mette and Therese, Vilde and Chris’ roommates, begging off to head back down to the common room. “Come on,” Vilde says to the girls that remain. “It’ll be fun!”

Eva rolls her eyes but the alcohol has hit her system and made her happy enough to play along. She nods, grabbing a pillow from Chris’ bag, and arranges herself so she’s lying on her stomach with her arms and head folded up on the pillow.

“Me first,” Vilde says, grinning. “Sana. Truth or dare?”

Sana sets down her soda and straightens her hijab. “Dare,” she says.

Vilde grins and furrows her brow in thought. “Okay… I dare you to imitate someone we know, and you can’t stop until we guess who it is.” Sana tilts her head, considering.

“Okay,” she says, closing her eyes for a second to focus. “You know,” she says, opening them and looking off into the distance. “Hogwarts as an institution is inherently flawed.” She pretends to take a drag of a joint. Eva starts giggling. She knows _exactly_ who Sana’s imitating but wants to see the rest of it. “There’s like.” She spreads her hands wide. “ _This_ many ways in which students could be acknowledged, you know? And what did they choose? A point-based system which only reinforces capitalist ideology and creates an us-vs-them mentality that’s impossible to build upon as a growing socialist society. That’s just… fucked up, dude.” She takes another imaginary drag of her joint, pursing her lips in an imitation of blowing out smoke.

At this point, Eva is uncontrollably laughing. It’s probably not even that funny but the alcohol makes her think otherwise. “ _Jonas_ ,” she chokes out between hiccups, wiping tears from her eyes and trying to bring her breathing back under control. “Oh my God, that was _perfect_.”

Sana gives an exaggerated little bow from where she’s sitting. “Okay, Chris,” she says. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare, duh!” Chris says, taking a sip from the Firewhiskey. Sana grins.

“I dare you to try and drink that while standing upside down,” she says and the girls all laugh. They stand to hold Chris up and help her balance while on her hands, while Vilde holds the bottle to her mouth and tips it in an attempt to get it down Chris’ throat.

The Firewhiskey spurts from Chris’ mouth all over the girls’ pants and the floor. They let Chris down, now hiccuping madly, and collapse into laughter. “Never make me do that again,” Chris moans, rubbing her nose. “I think some of it went straight up here!” That just sets them off even more. Chris retaliates by daring Vilde to run down to the common room whilst yodelling, do a lap and then return to the dorm. The girls all cluster in the doorway, watching as Vilde does so. Filtered laughter and _what the fuck_ ’s float up the stairwell and when Vilde returns she is red in the face.

“You fucking suck,” she informs Chris, but she’s grinning. “Okay, Eva. Truth or dare.”

“Uh, no _way_ am I picking dare now,” Eva says, knowing all too well that as the game progresses the dares become more and more embarrassing. “Truth.”

Vilde smirks, and Eva regrets everything. She even regrets being born. “When was the last time you had an orgasm,” Vilde asks, “And were you thinking about someone specific while you did?”

“That’s two questions!” Eva protests, as Chris guffaws and Noora and Sana groan in unison. She can feel herself blushing bright red, but she may as well get it over with. “Last week,” she says, burying her head in her hands. “In my free. And yes, I was, but _no_ , you are _so_ not finding out who.” Eva can’t make eye contact with any of them, and the worst part of it is she can feel Sana’s presence beside her and she knows, she just _knows_ , that the other girls know _exactly_ who she was thinking about. “I hate you all,” she says into her hands. “Noora, please save me, truth or dare?”

Noora is laughing, the jerk, but she pats Eva commiseratingly on the shoulder and answers, “Truth.”

“Fuck, marry, kill: Slughorn, Flitwick, Hagrid.” The dissolve into laughter once more. Eva leans into Sana, blaming it on the alcohol.

Noora turns bright red but answers instantly: “Fuck Hagrid, marry Flitwick, kill Slughorn.”

“Ewwwww,” the girls say in unison, and it’s safe to say the game dissolves pretty quickly after that. The following morning, all Eva really cares to remember outside of Vilde yodelling and her pounding headache is the feeling of Sana pressed up against her, and the warmth of her smile, coincidence or not, whenever she looked over at Eva.

 

*

 

It’s been a month since winter break and Eva still hasn’t told Sana how she feels. She hates herself for it but every time she thinks she can do it she chickens out. It’s not so much that she’s scared of Sana not feeling the same way anymore. She’s been sending some pretty clear signals ever since that letter, and almost every time Eva looks at her it’s to find her glancing away at the same time, like she’d been looking when Eva wasn’t.

It’s enough to give her a heart attack every damn day.

But Eva’s no stranger to crippling self-doubt. She’s had it all her life, and with two failed relationships under her belt already, including Jonas, who she loved for real and still fucked it up with anyway—it’s a lot to deal with. And though Sana throws her glances and wears her scarf and gives her that frankly _infuriating_ smile, Eva doesn’t really know where it can all go: Sana’s faith is strong, and Eva doesn’t think she’d reject her because of it, but it’s still an unknown variable. And it makes Eva feel awful, not because Sana’s religion might keep them apart, but because she herself is so _ignorant_ of what Islam entails. She’s been friends with Sana for what, three, four years now? How is it she knows so little about her beliefs? Is she a bad friend because of that? How can she possibly hope to be with Sana the way she wants to if she’s already failing at just being her friend?

So Eva says nothing. And neither does Sana. It’s a shit situation all round.

It’s a Thursday, and Eva is in the library during lunch working on her star chart for Divination. Someone clears their throat from behind her, and she turns to see Laila, who she hasn’t spoken to since third year when she’d started dating Jonas.

“Um, hi?” she says, confused as to why, three years later, Laila is suddenly talking to her again.

“Hey,” Laila says. “You’re friends with Noora, right?”

Eva blinks. “Yeah?”

“She spent last night crying and skipped all her morning classes. I ducked into the dorm after Charms and she was still in bed. I thought you should know.”

“Oh my God,” Eva says, unable to think for a moment. She jerks into action suddenly and sweeps all her shit into her bag, hitching it over her shoulder and standing. “Thank you,” she tells Laila, who shrugs.

“I hope she feels better soon,” she says and walks away. Eva looks after her for a moment, then turns and races down the aisles towards the exit, skidding out the corridor and mentally mapping out the quickest route to Ravenclaw Tower. She gets there in record time, out of breath, and slams the knocker against the door. The eagle on it stirs to life.

“What has an eye, but cannot see?” the doorknocker asks. Eva swears. In her rush to get to Noora she’d forgotten about the riddles—and Eva’s not in Ravenclaw for a reason.

“Oh, I don’t know!” she frets. “A blind man?”

“That is incorrect,” the knocker replies, and returns to its inanimate form. Eva grabs it again and knocks twice, three times, but it doesn’t come back to life.

“Oh for fuck’s _sake_ ,” she yells, kicking the door and swearing when pain shoots up her foot. “Open up you fucking _fuck!_ ” She’s about to kick it again before a voice from down the corridor stops her.

“Need a hand?” She turns to see Even smiling at her. He lopes over and gives her a commiserating grimance. “Old bastard locked you out?” he says, indicating the eagle with a tilt of his head.

Eva blushes. “Yeah,” she says. “I’m terrible at riddles. I don’t even know why I tried, to be honest.”

“Hey, there’s never harm in trying,” Even says, ducking his head to meet her eyes. “Any reason why you’re trying to get into Ravenclaw Tower?”

“I, uh, need to talk to Noora,” Eva says, hoping he won’t ask her to explain further. Luckily for her, that’s all the explanation Even needs. He knocks the eagle and it springs to life.

“What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?” the eagle asks. Eva’s heart sinks. That’s _impossible_ , surely. She turns to Even but he’s grinning at her.

“The letter ‘m’,” he answers.

“That is correct,” the eagle says, and the door swings open.

“Oh my God, thank you, I love you,” Eva gushes, racing past Even towards the girls’ staircase.

He laughs and calls after her, “I’ll tell Isak you said that!”

She reaches the sixth year dorm and enters hesitantly. The room is dark, the curtains drawn, and Eva can just make out a lumpy human shape in Noora’s bed. She tiptoes slowly over, gently setting her bag on the ground, and sits on the edge of the mattress.

“Noora?” she whispers, reaching out and brushing Noora’s blonde strands with her fingers. “It’s Eva. Can I lie down?”

Slowly, Noora nods, and Eva does so, spreading herself out carefully on the edge of the bed. Noora meets her eyes. “Hey,” Eva says, smiling softly. “I’m here if you need me.”

Noora looks at her for a long moment and sighs. “We broke up,” she says, voice cracking, and Eva doesn’t need clarification to know who she’s talking about. “Officially. Last Tuesday, actually.”

“What?” Eva’s not sure she heard right. “Tuesday? Noora, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I had it sorted,” Noora says, sniffling. “You guys already did so much for me, and I just wanted to do it alone.”

Eva swallows. “And?” she asks, voice gentle.

“And it was fine,” Noora says, turning her head further into her pillow and muffling her voice. “But last night he—I saw him. With someone else.”

“Noora, I’m so sorry.”

Noora is crying for real now, small, hiccuping sobs, and Eva gathers her into her arms to catch the tears. “How do I stop loving him?” she asks between sobs, pressing her forehead into Eva’s neck. “He was—he was so mean, and _violent_ , and I want to hate him, but I _can’t_ , I just can’t.”

Eva rocks her gently. “You might never be able to hate him,” she says softly. “He was your first love. That kind of shit… that’s forever.” Noora looks at her.

“Like you and Jonas?”

Eva nods. “I don’t want to be with him, and you _know_ I like someone else, but… I’ll always love him, you know? And that might be you with William.”

Noora sighs, tears subsiding. “I hate it. Why can’t it just be easy?”

“I don’t know,” Eva says, and she isn’t thinking about Jonas anymore. “I wish it was.”

Eva skips her class after lunch to stay with Noora, who needs another hour in bed before she can muster the strength to sit up. “Okay?” Eva asks hesitantly once she’s on her feet.

Noora wipes her hands over her face, collecting the tears, and smoothes down her hair. “Not really,” she says, giving a sad, half-laugh, half-sob. “But I think I will be.” Eva reaches for her hand and squeezes. The quiet of the early evening settles into their bones and Eva thinks that yeah, Noora might be onto something. Nothing’s okay yet, not really—but that feeling’s not forever, and all Eva needs to do to change it is try.

 

*

 

Eva’s cleaning up after a particularly gruelling Quidditch session, conducted in the driving rain and wind because Astrid refuses to let something like a little bad weather stop them, when an idea occurs to her. She glances over her shoulder to locate Yousef; he’s leaning up against the lockers, methodically stripping off his arm guards. She waits for the rest of the team to filter outside before walking over. He looks up at her approach and gives a confused smile. “Hi?”

“Hi,” Eva says, not really sure where to begin. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” Yousef nods, sitting down on the bench and gesturing Eva to follow. She does hesitantly. It's funny; they've been on the same team for years now, and have held too many conversations between them to count, but nothing ever really meaningful. Eva hopes Yousef is happy for that to change.

“You’re Muslim, right?” she asks, clasping her hands firmly to resist the urge to bite her nails. Yousef blinks in surprise.

“No?” he says, the refusal a half-question, and Eva’s heart sinks. There goes that idea.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, standing. “I thought… but, um, never mind.”

“I was,” Yousef says quickly, and she looks at him, confused. “A Muslim,” he clarifies. “If you wanted to ask me about it I’m happy to talk.”

Eva sits back down. “Um, okay,” she says, stalling. “I was just… wondering what the rules are for Muslims dating non-Muslims? And like… I know about abstinence and everything, but like… what _is_ allowed in a relationship?” She looks down at her hands. “Is it just better for Muslims to be with other Muslims, full stop?”

Yousef runs a hand through his hair. “You know, the beautiful thing about the Qur’an is the room it has for interpretation.” He pauses until Eva meets his gaze. “Not like… there's different versions, or anything. But… the subtleties, I guess. Every Muslim is different in the way they follow Allah’s commands. For some… you know, dating a non-Muslim is a big no-no. But it's not so much for others.” Eva nods slowly. She’d known this at some level, she thinks. It's the same for most religions; different nuances of interpretation. The thought gives her a small, warm feeling in her chest.

“And I mean,” Yousef continues, “It is easier, in a lot of ways, for Muslims to date other Muslims. They know about each other, for a start. Believe the same things, follow the same practices. But it's not… Relationships don't always have to be easy. And being different to the person you like isn't necessarily a bad thing.” He looks at Eva. “You like someone,” he says, and it isn't a question. Eva sighs and nods. “Then I guess it's up to the both of you to figure it out. I probably shouldn't be your mediator, effective as I am.” This elicits a small laugh out of Eva which makes Yousef smile. “Now can I ask you something?” Eva blinks but nods. “I think… I think you need to figure out just how much you like this person. Because asking me these questions… it's good you're trying to educate yourself, but if you keep framing Islam as some sort of… obstacle in your relationship then you’re doomed from the start. I take it Islam means a lot to the person you like?” Eva nods. “Then you need to start thinking of it like that. Not as something stopping you from being together, but just… something that's a part of them, a big part, and that you need to learn to understand and accept without questioning how it will interfere in their feelings towards you.”

“I thought you were going to ask me a question,” Eva says, and her voice cracks on the last word. Yousef is silent for another moment before speaking.

“Sana’s your best friend,” he says finally. “If you're asking _me_ questions about _her_ , how do you expect to understand how she feels on the subject?” Eva stares at him, open-mouthed. Yousef stands and grins at her. “You’re more obvious than you think,” he says. “Talk to her, Eva. I know it's scary but… you’ll regret it if you don't.” Giving her one last smile, Yousef leaves Eva alone with her thoughts.

She sits there a long time.

 

*

 

As Sana predicted, Slytherin loses their next match against Ravenclaw, securing the latter their place in the final. Not even the hard work of the Chasers is enough to save the team, even after Isak catches the Snitch. Eva waits on the edge of the pitch with the girls for Sana, who peels off from her team when she spots them and walks over, dejected.

“Hey, you still have one more game,” she tries, but Sana just sighs.

“Yeah, against _you_. We’d have to win by more than 400 points to get to the final.”

“I mean…” Eva trails off. Yeah, that’s… not going to happen. Vilde wraps an arm around Sana and squeezes comfortingly.

“Just think,” she says. “William will be gone next year and you’ll be Quidditch captain. I’m sure Eva won’t mind giving up the Cup to you then.” At the mention of William, Noora, who had been chatting with Chris, goes silent. Vilde sends her a nervous look. “Besides,” she continues, attempting a smile to lighten the mood. “At least you’re not in last place! That dubious honour falls to us.” Chris sketches an exaggerated bow to Sana, who finally, finally smiles. Noora laughs softly, and the sound gives Eva hope.

They leave Sana to go get changed and meet up again under the oak tree beside the lake. It’s a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon, and Eva would love to lie in the grass and soak up the rays if it weren’t for the veritable mountain of homework she has to conquer before Monday. The girls spread themselves and their books out in the sun, sharing ideas here and there but otherwise working quietly while the buzz of Hogwarts life skips around them.

Eva finishes off her Charms essay and gets Noora to read it over before moving onto her Transfiguration questions. Sana has finished them already so she struggles through the textbook, trying not to copy her answers verbatim because McGonagall always, _always_ knows. She’s stuck on question six, chewing on the end of her pen (which she brought from home because quills are _so_ impractical) when Sana scoots over to her side and looks down at the parchment.

“Need a hand?” she says. Eva groans in relief.

“ _Yes_ , oh my God, you are a lifesaver.”

The thing about studying with Sana is she never gives Eva the answer; never tells her what to write or takes the parchment from her to write it herself. It’s not that Eva minds too much when someone like Noora does that, because she knows she’s just doing it because she cares. But the way Sana helps Eva is different. She nudges her towards the right answer but never explicitly points it out; and when Eva gets there on her own, it feels miles better than someone simply telling her the correct response.

Sana will never cease to amaze Eva. She had an awful morning and Eva knows that if she was in Sana’s shoes, she would’ve made a run for her dormitory as soon as the match was over and stayed there all weekend. (She doesn’t handle loss well.) But Sana is as kind and patient as ever; just being near her makes Eva want to smile and never stop.

Sana points Eva towards the correct chapter of the textbook and nods along as Eva dictates her answer while she writes.

“If McGonagall doesn’t give you an O for this, she’s dreaming,” Sana says, and Eva grins.

“I’ll tell her you said that.”

“Go ahead. She’s probably already bitter over us beating Gryffindor to third place.”

“Yeah, well.” Eva finishes off the question, skims over her response, and rolls the parchment up once she’s satisfied. “Someone’s gotta come last, I guess.”

“Tell that to McGonagall,” Sana says, rolling her eyes. Eva sits up and stretches. She still has her dream diary to fill in for Divination, and Professor Sprout assigned them research on various medicinal plants that needs to be done for Wednesday, but the sun is so nice and warm on her arms and face and the back of her neck that she just can’t bring herself to care.

“You know,” she says to no-one in particular, “I reckon Binns has the right idea. Something about this place… it’s so peaceful. I wouldn’t mind staying here forever.”

“Until you’re confronted with hordes of screaming first years every year,” Sana says.

“And Peeves would be a constant in your life,” Chris adds.

“You’d probably have to wear the uniform forever,” Vilde says. “Would you really be willing to commit to that?”

“Besides,” Noora laughs, looking up from her Arithmancy equations. “Ghosts can’t feel the sun. You’re practically a lizard, I know you’d hate that.”

“Oh my God, _okay_ , Jesus,” Eva frowns. “It was just a thought.”

“Would you really want to be stuck with Binns forever?”

“I get it!” Eva flops down on her back and closes her eyes against the bright sky. “You guys are no fun.”

“We’re fun,” Chris says.

“ _Realistic_ fun,” Noora clarifies.

Eva folds her arms behind her head. “I hate you all,” she informs them, and they laugh.

 

*

 

In the two weeks before the Hufflepuff match against Slytherin, Eva splits her time between feverish Quidditch practices and frantic essay writing as the work piles up in preparation for exams, because even though they’re still more than two months away her professors seem intent on making their students suffer for as long as possible. As busy as she is, Eva hardly has time to catch up with the girls at all, outside of classes and scattered free periods spent in the library. She _still_ hasn’t talked to Sana, and by now it feels like some sort of cosmic joke.

The one upside is Noora, who is smiling more these days than she has in the past year, without the shadow of William hanging over her head. Eva sees him around the corridors sometimes and always avoids eye contact. She can’t even begin to imagine how good it will feel to see the back of him at the end of the year, hopefully for good. For Isak, though, it’s a different story. Eva comes across him and Even caught in deep conversation more than once, and if she had to hazard a guess, she’d say the future is a pretty major discussion topic between them. Isak tells her Even is looking into a career in the Muggle world, which isn’t so unusual these days. “He wants to be the next Baz Luhrmann,” he informs her. She laughs.

“Bet I’m the first person you’ve told who actually knows who that is,” she says. Isak grins and nods.

She’s happy for them that they seem to be working everything out—long distance relationships are hard, but if anyone can do it, it’s Isak and Even. Besides, they still have a few months left of the school year to enjoy being together. Eva punches Isak on the arm and tells him not to waste it.

The day of the match dawns overcast, but Eva does a quick weather forecast spell in her dorm and is relieved to see the chance of rain is low. Not that she minds flying in the rain, but it makes for a better match all round when both the players and the crowd can see what’s happening on the pitch.

She passes by Isak and Sana on her way to the Hufflepuff table. “Good luck,” she tells them, giving them both quick hugs. They smile at her and return the sentiment, although Isak looks pale with nerves. Eva lingers on Sana for a moment longer but hurries off when Astrid calls her over.

They go over the game plan over eggs on toast. Eva packs it away despite the butterflies in her stomach and washes it down with a glass of pineapple juice. Yousef watches her in disgust, then says, “What the hell,” and offers her his cup. She pours the juice in with a grin. He sniffs at it suspiciously, takes a sip, and his eyes widen.

“What the fuck?” he says, looking at his cup and Eva and back again. “This is actually good?”

“Told you,” Eva laughs.

The team walks down to the pitch together, the cheers of the Hufflepuff table following behind them. They’ve got this in the bag, pretty much everyone knows it, and their place in the final is a veritable guarantee; but it’s still heartening to know they have support.

Changed, stretched, and pep-talked, they head onto the pitch five minutes before game time. Slytherin is waiting for them, William’s face a dark storm cloud, Sana’s serious. Eva gives her a smile which she returns, and they wait for Hooch to blow the whistle.

Taking off into the air feels as good as ever. Eva knocks her bat together with Mahdi’s before they fly to either side of the pitch. The world narrows down to a single point: Madam Hooch, Quaffle in hand. She throws it into the air and the game begins.

It’s fast and brutal. Slytherin may not be a coherent team but they can still play, and meanly. One of their Chasers scores the first goal, not Sana, and Yousef picks it up to score twice for Hufflepuff in quick succession.

The Bludgers are everywhere. Eva prides herself on her strength with her bat, and knows she and Mahdi make a good team; but William and Christoffer have the arm muscles neither she nor Mahdi possess, and their hits are vicious. Berit narrowly misses being wiped out by a Bludger from William, and Mahdi retaliates by whacking it towards Sana, who avoids the trajectory by flying a loop on her broom.

Despite their ferocity, Slytherin begins to fall behind in goals. Hufflepuff leads by ninety points. Eva is tracking the Seekers as they circle the pitch when she hears Mahdi yell her name.

“Eva! Duck!” he yells, voice carried on the wind, and she does just in time. A Bludger whistles violently above her head, close enough that it skims the tips of her hair. Eva turns to see William not ten feet away from her, bat by his side. He looks furious at the miss. Her heart pounding, Eva sees red, but manages to pull her anger under control. It wasn’t a foul, but it was a nasty way to play, and Eva sees Hooch yelling angrily at William from her broomstick.

She shouts her thanks to Mahdi, who nods grimly.

But it’s not over. Sana flies straight towards William, Quaffle forgotten, and gives him a piece of her mind. “She could’ve died!” she yells, and Eva flies towards her before she does something that will get her a time out. “You hit that at her head from ten feet away! You could’ve killed her!” Eva grabs her arm with her hand not holding her Beater’s bat.

“Sana, it’s okay,” she says, and it’s as if they’re not playing a Quidditch semi-final at all. The world has narrowed down to the two of them, to Eva’s hand on Sana’s arm, and Eva watches, as if in slow motion, the wind billow the hem of Sana’s emerald hijab gently around her shoulders. Sana meets her eyes and nods jerkily. Eva shoots William a dirty look before flying off again, back to the game.

Not five minutes later, the world slows down again, but for an entirely different reason. Hufflepuff is ahead by one hundred and eighty points now, and it’s only a matter of time before the Snitch is caught. Eva’s eyes are on William as a Bludger flies his way; he shifts in the air at the last second and pelts it not towards Berit, who he’d been originally aiming at, but Sana. She’s racing towards the goal with the Quaffle, and her back is turned, seemingly assured in the knowledge that her team’s Beaters will keep the Bludgers away.

Eva flies like the devil himself is behind her. She urges speed into her old Comet, coming at Sana from a diagonal, and there’s no way she’ll be able to get up her bat in time. Sana turns her head and sees her coming, starts to say something but Eva can’t hear; she puts on a last burst of speed and flies straight into the path of the Bludger, screaming in pain as it tears through her shoulder with a sickening crack.

Eva drops her bat. It spirals through the air to land somewhere on the grass. The pain is overwhelming. She can’t hear anything but a high-pitched whine, louder and louder until it feels like her ears are bleeding.

As if underwater, Eva feels herself slowly list sideways. Arms reach out but they’re too late to catch her, and the last thing she registers before blacking out is the sensation of falling, gravity pressing down on her like a dead weight, all feelings of being limitless replaced by the pain.

 

*

 

She opens her eyes to a bright, white room.

“Oh thank God,” says a voice to her right, and someone squeezes her hand. She looks down. The hand around hers is small and brown, the nails painted black. She follows the hand to an arm and then a shoulder and a face; Sana.

“Thank God,” the voice says again, and it’s not Sana but Vilde, who is standing behind her. Chris and Noora are on her other side, and Isak is there too, with Jonas, and the whole Hufflepuff Quidditch team, still in their robes. They’re all staring at her anxiously. Berit is still holding her broom.

Eva coughs to dislodge the muck in her throat. “What happened?”

“William’s what happened,” Noora replies fiercely, and when Eva looks at her, her face is red with anger. “You flew into the path of a Bludger he hit towards Sana. Earned him a complete disqualification from the game.”

Eva looks over at Sana. “Guess we’re coming last after all,” she says, and her voice is light but she isn’t smiling. In fact, she looks more scared and vulnerable than Eva has ever seen her; it makes Eva want to reach out and hold her, but her arms are heavy and numb.

“But you’re okay?” she asks Sana, who blinks quickly, and it looks like there’s tears in her eyes but it’s probably just the pain talking.

“Yeah,” Sana says after a moment. She squeezes Eva’s hand. “I’m okay.”

Madam Pomfrey walks over then and shoos almost everyone out. She lets the girls stay, though _tsk_ ing at four being too many, and smiles kindly down at Eva.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

Eva shifts on the pillows and groans softly. “Like I’ve been punched by Mike Tyson,” she says.

“I don’t know who that is but I assume it’s bad.” Eva nods. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay with me for a few days. That Bludger tore through your shoulder and normally I could set a bone in a heartbeat but you have a mess of muscle and tissue that will be far slower to mend.”

“I’ll be able to play in the final?” Eva asks, and Pomfrey sighs.

“You Quidditch nuts never cease to amaze me. _Yes_ , you’ll be able to play, but do be careful, won’t you?” She holds up two goblets of potion. “This is for the pain, which you should take now.” She holds it so Eva can gulp the liquid down and sets the other goblet on the bedside table. “That one’s for dreamless sleep. You should take it within the hour, so the numbness doesn’t wear off, but you may talk to your friends for a while first if you’d like.” She walks off to her office, leaving Eva alone with the girls. Sana is still holding her hand.

“What time is it?”

“Just past four,” Chris says, sitting gingerly on the edge of Eva’s bed. She smoothes down the covers and smiles. “You’re about to have the best sleep you’ve had all year. When will someone hit me with a Bludger?”

Eva laughs weakly. Despite just waking up she feels tired already. The numbness from the potion is a disconcerting feeling. “You guys should go,” she says. “I’m probably gonna pass out soon even without that potion.”

Vilde smiles and leans down to kiss Eva’s forehead. “Okay,” she says. “We’ll visit tomorrow.” She, Noora, and Chris move to go, but Eva keeps a firm grip on Sana’s hand, holding her in place.

“Wait,” she says to Sana, avoiding eye contact with the other girls and waiting until they’ve left the hospital wing before speaking again. Only then does she look at Sana who is already looking back at her, like she always is. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks, and they’re not the words she was intending to say but they come out nonetheless.

Sana looks at her incredulously. “You’re asking _me_ that? You’re the one in pain.” Her voice cracks on the last word and she glances down at their joined hands. She’s still in her robes too, and her customary green hijab. The sight of her makes Eva’s heart want to beat right out of her chest.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” she tells Sana. “If I had the same choice I’d do it all over again.”

Sana looks back at her. “If it weren’t for you I’d be the one in that bed right now.”

Eva smiles and squeezes her hand. “Then I’m glad it’s me.” Sana is still looking, and those are _definitely_ tears glistening in her eyes, and Eva knows this is it. It isn’t how she wanted it to go but they’re here now and there’s no going back from what she revealed on the pitch. “Do you know why I did it?” she asks. Sana shakes her head, a minute movement that Eva tracks with her eyes nonetheless. “Because I couldn’t bear seeing you hurt. Because I’d rather take a thousand Bludgers than watch you take one. Because… because I really, really like you Sana, not just as friends, but for real.” Sana’s hand goes slack in Eva’s as she stares at her in shock. Eva’s heart is beating a mile a minute but her breathing is steady. She doesn’t look away.

“I like you too,” Sana says after an endless moment, looking down at their joined hands and then back up at Eva. Then she laughs, the sound turning into an incredulous half-sob. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Maybe a little,” Eva says, and she’s smiling, so wide her cheeks are starting to hurt. “Sorry I took so long to tell you.”

“Don’t be,” Sana responds instantly, tightening her grip on Eva’s hand. “I could’ve done without the hospital wing, but I’ll take it.”

Eva laughs. “I’ll take _you_ ,” she says, and maybe it’s cheesy, and maybe everything feels dull and muted from the numbing potion but Sana’s smile is as bright as ever, and Eva would do anything, any day, to see that smile over and over again for the rest of her life. Sana reaches out to smooth down Eva’s hair, her fingers lingering by her ear. She takes the goblet and holds it out to Eva, who sits up slightly to drink the contents.

“Be here when I wake up?” Eva asks, already groggy, eyes slipping closed.

“Always,” Sana says, and Eva can hear the smile in her voice.

She sleeps, and it’s dreamless.

 

*

 

Pomfrey releases Eva after four days in the hospital wing. Her shoulder still feels tender but it should heal completely within the week, and she’ll be back on her broom in time for the final. Eva smiles in thanks and makes her way to the lake, where the girls are waiting for her. Vilde calls out at her approach and the others greet Eva as she sits down beside Sana, grabbing her hand and interlacing their fingers as soon as she can. Vilde coos, Chris informs them that they’re “gross, guys, come on,” and Noora just smiles, but Eva isn’t looking at any of them. She’s looking at Sana, who is trying to read her Potions textbook except her eyes haven’t moved for ten seconds and the corners of her lips are beginning to quirk. With a put-upon sigh, she closes the volume and meets Eva’s gaze.

“Happy?” she says in a faux-annoyed voice, but she’s leaning in, and Eva grins.

“Always,” she replies, meeting Sana halfway to the kiss.

 

*

 

_One month later…_

 

“Okay, guys,” Astrid says, broom in hand and fierce determination settled across her brow. “Ravenclaw’s a tough team but we beat them at the beginning of the year and we can do it again. The Cup is ours.”

The team cheers at her words and Eva grins, knocking bats with Mahdi as they head out onto the pitch. Yousef falls into step beside her. “You ready?” he asks, broom over his shoulder.

“Are you?” she challenges. He laughs and nudges his shoulder against hers, indicating with a tilt of his head someone standing on the sidelines. Eva takes one look and feels a smile unfurl its way across her face. There’s still five minutes to game time, so she jogs over to where Sana is waiting for her, wearing a hijab the colour of sunflowers.

“He annoying you again?” Sana asks, nodding at Yousef who smiles and gives them a wave. Eva rolls her eyes.

“When is he not?” she says. Sana grins.

“Good point.” She reaches out to straighten the front of Eva’s robes and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You ready?” she says, echoing Yousef’s words. Something bone deep settles into Eva’s limbs, and it feels a little like coming home.

“Born ready,” she says, making Sana laugh. “Wish you were out there with me.”

Sana pulls a face. “Tell that to Dickhelm,” she says. “Besides, if I was on the pitch, I wouldn’t be able to watch you play.”

“That is true,” Eva concedes, tapping her Beater’s bat with her index finger. “I do look good on a broom.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Sana says, placing a hand on Eva’s waist and pulling her in. “You look _great_ on a broom.” When they kiss, it feels like flying.

“Eva!” Astrid calls from the pitch. “Come on, one minute til Quaffle!”

Eva pulls back from Sana, rolls her shoulders, and hefts her bat onto her hip. “Win for me, okay?” Sana says, the same words she’d said to Eva before her first match this year, and the memory makes the both of them smile.

“Anything for you,” Eva calls over her shoulder as she heads back onto the pitch towards her team, mounting her broom and kicking off into the air. This is what it feels like: the anticipation, taut like a bowstring in Eva’s stomach; the familiar weight of her bat, ready and waiting for that first sharp crack of a Bludger against its surface; and Sana, radiant in her yellow hijab, her kiss a memory, a presence, a talisman for the match ahead. Hooch releases the Bludgers and the Snitch, holding the Quaffle in her hands. Time stands still. She throws the Quaffle into the air, and Eva flies, free.

**Author's Note:**

> title from nicola maye goldberg: 
> 
> Somewhere the sky  
> is going soft. No one is going to break your heart.


End file.
